The Assassin
by Nature9000
Summary: As Tori and her friends near graduation from Hollywood Arts, their joy is cut short when a dark cloud looms over the city of Los Angeles. A serial killer stalks the night, evading capture as they prey upon those closest to the group. Terrified they may be next, all the group can do is wait. Will this killer be caught before all is lost ,or is there something more sinister at play?
1. A Brewing Storm

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

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Chapter 1 (A Brewing Storm)

The shadows fell onto the darkened city streets below, and the sound of heavy rain filled the air and soothed the ears of the assassin perched atop a rooftop. Above the assassin was an archway that let the rain flow down it as if it were an umbrella.

The assassin was clothed like a ninja with two long katanas attached to a holster on their back. The assassin's sharp eyes pierced the people below, stopping to gaze at the full moon above them.

Among the crowd of onlookers were a young couple, holding each other beneath their umbrella. A man was checking his watch and gazing down a dark and secluded alleyway with an uncertain expression-as though he were to be terrified of walking alone. A young girl stood perched on the step outside the back entrance of an aging apartment building, and in her tiny arms she clutched a pink rabbit.

A cop was kneeling in the street, letting the rain glint off his broad shoulders and his detective cap. The rain that caressed his body gave him a bluish green aura in the moonlight, creating an image that drew the ninja's focus if only for a moment.

Lying motionless on the ground was a middle aged man with short brown hair and a thick bushy mustache. His head had been separated from his shoulders and placed neatly between his chest and right arm. His arms and knees bore long slits while his chest and back had X-shaped gashes that gushed with a crimson flow.

Perhaps the most striking was the killing blow, a careful stab delivered through the chest cavity that pierced through the heart. The ninja admired their work with a proud glint in their eyes; it was a man that deserved such an end. An evil and unjust man for whom death was much too merciful for.

The detective kneeling above him had tears filling his eyes and a distraught expression that suggested closeness to the victim. The detective turned his eyes to the lighting stretching across the sky. His eyes filled with a light of vengeance and rage as he swore to find this man's killer.

The ninja remained in the shadows and raised their eyes to gaze at a small cemetery. The assassin's heart broke remembering who was buried there, and the one for whom vengeance was sworn.

The assassin raised up a phone, speaking into it with a soft and certain tone. "It's done. The target has been eliminated, but we will have to watch our backs. The detective picking up the case has a personal connection to the victim, it looks like."

Static answered on the other end, broken after a few seconds by a distorted voice that bore no detectible identifying information. "Good," the speaker replied in a cold manner, "I'm not worried about the detective. Let him hunt us, he won't find us."

"I agree." The assassin did not speak with the hatred in the heart, but with the most calm and rational manner possible. Who is next?" The assassin walked across the roof, stopping at the edge and peered across the way to another building.

Lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up the sign of Hollywood Arts. "The place that ruined everything," answered the voice. "They all must know suffering." The phone clicked off and the assassin pushed it into the pack tied around their waist.

"And so it will be done."

At the Vega home, Trina and her sister Tori sat at the table playing a game of poker while their father was off working late again and their mother was sleeping off her latest bout of depression. "God the thunder is loud tonight," Tori muttered while placing three cards face up in the center. "I can hardly hear myself think."

"I know." Trina looked over her shoulder, staring at their mother on the couch. "I hope dad gets home soon, mom's been worrying endlessly about him." It was another cold night for them, and it wasn't their mother they were worried about with the storm so much as their father.

The girls hated stormy nights, and this storm was one of the worst in Los Angeles. "I'm a little surprised your friends aren't here, Tori. Usually they're here to play poker with you."

Tori focused on the cards in her hand, using them to cover the lower half of her face. "Sometimes it's nice not having them around, it gives me a chance to spend some dang time with you without them saying something hateful." Trina flashed a smirk and leaned back in her chair.

"So nice to know you care."

"Honestly? Don't get me wrong, I love my friends, they just have this superiority complex that is really grating on my nerves." Trina hummed thoughtfully and peered down at the cards on the table. Two hearts and one club; a four, six and king. "Graduation hasn't humbled them at all."

"Sorry to hear about that."

"You remember my old friends from Sherwood? Ian and Courtney?"

"Yes?"

"They hate me now." Tori threw in a chip, raising the bet by twenty five. Trina called the twenty-five, feeling she had a good hand with a pair of kings. "I finally introduced Ian and Courtney to my friends, and sat there speechless as they joked about how neither Ian or Courtney were interested in artistic talents." The eighteen year old's face tightened and her nostrils started to flare. "Because of this, neither Courtney or Ian want anything to do with me."

It was a shame, and Trina was all too aware of what had taken place. It was her understanding that afterwards, Jade told Tori that Ian and Courtney weren't worth it if they couldn't put up with a little teasing from her newer friends. It angered her that the woman would say something like that, especially without knowing how important those two had been to Tori.

"Never knew what you saw in that lot, Tori."

"Acceptance." Tori sneered as she turned over a nine of hearts. "When I went to Hollywood Arts, I was the new girl without friends, so the moment they let me into their circle I wanted to place them. Didn't want to be rejected, so I went along with everything they did, behaved in a way that they would find agreeable so they didn't reject me."

"How'd that work out for you?"

"I just lost two of my longest best friends because I've 'changed'. How do you think it worked out?" Tori's anger towards her friends would likely pass as it always had. Trina herself found it harder to let her grudges against the group fade. They were the cause of a lot of grief for her in the past, so she didn't trust them at all.

"You know something?" Tori lowered her cards and flatlined her lips. "If it wasn't just the two of us and that no folding rule, I would fold right now. My hand is worthless." Trina grinned and pushed forward another twenty five.

"You're not supposed to say that." They made the no folding rule for moments where it was just the two of them. It would be too easy and the game would go one for far too long if one of them folded on every other hand. "That way I know I'm winning."

"Or, at the very least I could be bluffing." Tori smirked back at her and unveiled the final card. "What do you have?"

"Read em and weep, a pair of kings." She showed her cards and studied the pair in Tori's hand. Tori snickered and revealed a pair of aces in her hand. Her jaw fell open and Tori reached for the chips.

"Told you. Bluffing. I'm the master bluff."

"You learned from the best, sis."

The front door flew open at the crack of thunder and both girls shot up from their seats. Trina's heart raced beneath her chest and she took a deep breath as her eyes settled onto her father.

David shambled into the room swinging off his soaked police jacket and cap. His face was ashen and long, and the rain seemed to conceal the streaks of tears flowing like rivers down his face.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath, "It's been a long fucking night." Trina could smell alcohol on his breath and groaned with disgust. It was typical of him to drink after he was called out for a homicide, but that didn't make it any better in her eyes.

Holly awoke and pushed herself from the couch, groaning as she rubbed her eyes. "David? You're home? How was work?"

"He's been drinking, if that says anything." She walked over to the couch and sat beside her mother. Her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth twisted into a scowl.

Rainwater dripped from David's body, soaking the carpet around his feet. The man's somber gaze fell to the open door where he watched as the rain flew in to the room. "I'm sorry girls. I know I said I'd stop, but this last case…hit pretty close to home."

Tori rushed to the front door and shut it as quickly as she could. "Don't let the rain in, Dad." David remained unfazed and made his way to the recliner. As he dropped into it, a sloshing noise echoed into the air, and water splashed away from his body. "Dad, what are you doing? Let me grab a towel or something before you go soaking everything in the house."

His eyes were dull and his face was devoid of any expression. It was concerning, since he never came home like this before. "Dad what's wrong?" Trina's voice trembled as part of her didn't want to know what her father might have seen. Tori approached from behind, furrowing her brow as she scanned her father's limp and exhausted form.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Holly reached for her husband's hand, but David pulled it away as soon as her fingers brushed his. "Sweetie?" He ran his hand vigorously through his hair, growling under his breath.

"This has never been easy for me, but now I have to tell my own family?" He took a deep, slow breath and raised a trembling hand over his mouth. His hand moved up along his face and then down the right side, sliding off like a piece of meat dripping away. "There's no easy way to say this girls, but something's happened. Something terrible happened to your uncle."

Trina gasped aloud and she could feel Tori's hands falling to her shoulders and grasping them firmly. They knew David saying this could only mean one thing.

"No," Trina whispered, "Don't say it." Her racing heart intensified and her breath held in her throat. While personally she, and Tori, both hated their uncle, they would never wish the man murdered. Still, their father was a homicide detective and his job was always to inform the family of death. "Uncle Benny?"

"Yes." David wrung out the bottom of his shirt and hunched forward, shaking violently. Tori collapsed over the top of the couch, screaming in horror and anguish while Trina could only feel silent tears forming pockets under her eyelids. "I promise you, I am going to find out who is responsible."

Trina gripped her chest and rose from the couch, stumbling in her steps away. "W-Who could have done such a thing? Who would want to hurt Uncle Benny?" It was a strange question but a true one. On the surface, Benito Vega was a friendly and charismatic man that often got along with everyone he met.

For the girls, it was a bit of a different story. When they were young, he would often hold them in his lap, sometimes for the longest time. He would say things and behave in a manner that confused the sisters, but they never talked about this to anyone besides each other, and when they were old enough they stopped going near the man and made great pains to avoid him on holidays.

"He was a strange man," David admitted, "But he was my brother. He didn't deserve to die the way he did."

Trina balled her fists up in her lap and slammed her eyes shut. A rush of mixed emotions swept through her body, leaving a shivering sensation in their wake. "Find the person responsible, Dad." Thunder bellowed outside and Trina raised her head slowly. "Find them and make them pay."

"Yeah." Tori pulled herself up and wiped the tears from her face. "I didn't like Uncle Benny, but no one attacks our family and gets away with it. Right, Dad?" David smiled at them and nodded.

"Right, girls. I will catch the perpetrator. This time it's personal."

"It's very personal." Trina was scared that a killer was out there, but she had to be tough, and so did Tori. Their father could do the job, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but a feeling deep in her gut made her feel that this was only the beginning.

The storm was about to grow out of control.

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What are your thoughts on this dark piece? When I say dark, I mean it. I'm going to leave the identity of the assassin a mystery for you to figure out, and bear in mind while David's leading the charge in hunting down this assassin, the story is following the sisters and their group of friends as they all cope with the horror that is going to take over their lives like a storm. It isn't going to be pretty, I hope you're ready for a ride. There is a reason the killer is doing everything, but most have a reason for what they do that isn't just for the sake of death.


	2. Silent Killer

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: A friend gave me a wonderful idea, and for helping to keep the mystery and suspense of the killer, letting you try to identify them, I will write the assassin's chapters in first person. Though that means they will be a bit darker, this is perhaps the darkest tale I will do. Enjoy it.

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Chapter 2 (Silent Killer)

My hand tightens on my sword, my normal stillness replaced with a shakiness as I await my orders. Though not typically surprised, this victim threw me off. He's high in power, a diversion to make the police focus on the victims connected by association with our true targets. Still, it would set the entire community on high alert, and that could very well pose a problem.

The velvet curtains that frame the open window feel like silk as they caress and tug on my body, as if attempting to remove me from the darkened home. I can hear sounds of the ocean coming from the other room, and with it, the recording songs of a dolphin fills the air. "You're one of those sleepers, Eikner?" A tightness fills my chest as I pull my foot away from the curtains. "Seriously?"

The Principal of Hollywood Arts lived in a home perched atop a hill overlooking the city. He was heavily into politics and it was no secret he wanted to leave his job to enter the next race for mayor. I would prefer to wait until much later to take this man out, but I will follow the orders I have been given.

"Someone should teach you not to leave your windows cracked, you don't know what will enter." The heat drew sweat from my skin, clinging to my dark jumpsuit. I learned from scouting the home earlier that the air conditioner was out, so finding an open window was an easy task.

The sound of my blades as I remove them from their sheaths pleases me, and the gleam of the moonlight spilling onto the metal is a treat for my eyes. As I stop to admire them, the personalized inscription on each sword reminds me of my purpose, and the reason this man's life must end tonight.

In my right hand, I grip the katana, a blade intended for two handed use. Inscribed on it is the word _vengeance_ , meant to slice easily into the prey that fills my heart with the most anger and hate. In my left is a shorter one handed blade, often paired with the katana, a wakizashi. It shoots out to two feet and upon it I have inscribed the word _justice,_ and is a piece I use for the most immoral, such as the detective's brother.

Hugging the wall, I peer around to scan the living room. It's large and empty, with a brown sectional on one side of the room and a giant flat screen attached on a high point of a wall straight across from the couch. The room is otherwise neat and tidy, as if cleaned just this day.

Eikner may have a maid that has recently cleaned the place, so it is necessary to make a mental note of any potential witnesses living within the home. I find no fault with those that do not deserve death at one of my blades.

Sensing nothing in the next room, I slide around the wall and plunge myself into the nearest shadow that I can find. The music is coming from a hallway across the way, so I move in stealth towards it, listening as it becomes louder.

The music swells within my eardrum and I can feel my muscles relaxing as a sense of calmness washes through me. Carefully I plunge my katana back into my sheath, bearing no immediate hatred for Eikner myself.

The caller bears hatred for any and all associated with Hollywood Arts, and the caller is the one that demands their heads to be severed from the body; and that is what I shall use my katana for. It awaits the taste of more personal blood.

As I near the bedroom door, I feel the weight of the wakizashi growing heavy in my hand. The door is ajar and inside, the man's snore can be heard faint beneath the music. It would be all too easy to pierce his heart as he sleeps in the warm safety of his bed, but simple is not what the caller desires.

The caller wishes him to feel the pain of death coming for him; to beg for the sweet release of life.

The bedroom door feels firm beneath my hand, and my gloved fingers seem to treat the dark oak as if they were spilling their darkness onto it. A peculiar musk stings my nostrils upon entering the room, but nothing around the area tells me where the perverting scent is coming from.

"Smells like you haven't bathed in weeks. Jesus." Near the bed was a window cracked open; it would provide me with an easy escape. The drapes around it were swaying violently against the wind outside, and the vicious howls only distorted the sounds of the ocean.

At first thought, I wasn't sure if I should let him see his attacker. It would be easy to rouse him from his sleep and cut him with my blade while remaining unseen. If he saw me, then there would be a chance he could fight back. It is never difficult when they struggle, but it can be exhausting and time consuming, not to mention unpredictable.

Coming out of this with any injuries would be a bad idea, so pure stealth as always was my method of choice.

Unlike the caller, I do not kill for pleasure or enjoyment, but because these people must die. There is cause for their death, a death which fills a void long since diminished. I have nothing left to lose, my life has ended and so must theirs.

Let my prey be witness to my pain, let my suffering become theirs.

These are my final thoughts as I sink my blade into the left side of Eikner's hip. The man's eyes fly open and a powerful scream echoes into the air. This scream is laced with such pain that resonates within my heart.

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I removed the blade from his wound. Blood spews out like a fountain, and Eikner's hands fly over it to stop the bleeding. I fall into the shadows behind him, giving the man very little time to spot me.

"Who's there?" His voice quivers with anguish, breaking apart into quick gasps. Eikner looks down at the blood gushing through his fingertips and begins to shake and whimper. "Oh god, I've been stabbed. I've been stabbed."

As his voice rises to a panic, a lunge forward, sweeping the wakizashi across his upper back, delivering a gash from his left shoulder to his right. Eikner lurches forward, throwing his weight against the foot of the bed as his blood splatters across the headboard and wall behind him.

Just as he turns his head, I drop to the floor. My sword falls beside me as I rest my palms on the ground, holding myself just an inch from it. "I'm calling the police. Whoever you are, wherever you are, I'm calling the police."

The phone rested on a desk across the room, so there was no reason to fear this outcome. So long as he had no cell on his body at the moment, then the chances of him getting the police before I get to him is slim.

I can see his blood drenched hand trembling above me, reaching for his glasses beside the lamp. My hand clutches the handle of my sword tight, and I push up, stabbing him through the palm.

Blood splashes out onto my body as the man tears his hand through my sword and grabs it. His cry is broken between sobs. It is the confusion that I enjoy, the sense of the unknown. When my victims can't detect the thing ending their life, then I am nothing but a monster to them.

I have that power over them, and with that power is the sense of knowing that I am the one in control.

"Stop. I beg of you." His pleas fall onto deaf ears as I rise from the shadows and without a single word swipe my sword across his abdomen. The slice opens his stomach and with blood comes his inner organs. Holding back my disgusted retching, I avert my eyes and ignore the nauseating smell I have yet to grow accustomed to.

In the final moments, I leap above him, slamming him down onto the mattress. My knees straddle his waist and with my left hand I clamp his throat and watch as he begins his struggle to breathe.

Eikner's pale blue eyes gaze up into mine and his tears reflect the moonlight shining in through the window. "Why?" He gasps. My hand tightens around his throat and he begins to choke.

His wounds have rendered him weak and powerless against me, so there is little chance of a struggle. To give him an answer to his question would be to soothe his suffering, as if breathing mercy into him.

My right hand raises high above him, with the wakizashi pointing its deadly tip towards his chest. Eikner grabs my left wrist with his unwounded hand and stares up at the sword.

For a moment the fear in his eyes turns to anger, and then to hate. As I turn into his grim reaper, I relish in the fleeting glimpse of hope in his eyes. The fight remains until the end.

My sword rips through his chest, sliding between his ribs and into his heart. I can feel his body jerk beneath me and his eyes start to dilate. It will take some time before he loses life completely, so I remove myself and watch as the essence flees his body.

His body continues to twist and jump and his hands clutch the blanket as if doing so will save him. Eikner gazes at the ceiling above him, holding his mouth open in a silent wail while his blood oozes from his chest cavity.

As I listen to his dying gasps, I clean the blood from my sword with a rag that I will burn. There are to be no traces left of me, nor anything to suggest the type of weapon being used besides the slashes of a knife.

Eikner's body has stopped moving and he lies with an expression of terror frozen upon his face. As a final act, by order of the caller, I carefully remove my katana and return the wakizashi to it's sheath.

My hands grasp the handle firmly and I raise the blade high above Eikner's head. "Forgive me, but this final act must be carried out…" The weight of the katana sinks through his neck like butter with every ounce of strength I give to aid the sword.

The head splits away, rolling onto the pillow beside it, and blood begins to dampen the sheets. I clean off the katana and turn my back to the body. My work is complete, there is no further reason to remain in the presence of the dead.

I sheathe my blade and carefully slide out the window. It will take a matter of cleaning up to ensure my outfit has little trace evidence upon it, but that is not a matter that worries me.

Several hours later I've returned to the scene of the murder, hiding amongst the treetops. The morning sun has yet to break in the sky, and dark clouds create shadows that continue to cloak me in their security.

A car pulls up to the house, and a well-rounded woman with a soft and aged face approaches the front door.

The maid, no doubt.

My heart flutters momentarily as silence looms in the air. It feels like an hour is passing me by, but I wait until the body is discovered. Soon my patience is satiated, and the silence around me is broken by a shrill scream echoing out to me.

I'm satisfied the body has been discovered, and soon the police will arrive. The real comfort will be learning of the detective's confusion. It will be much harder to take out other targets with the alertness this murder will cause, but I can do nothing about that now other than making myself more alert and more hidden.

I am curious just how well the police will be in their pursuit of me. Detective Vega is a powerful and resourceful officer, there is no doubt about that, but his weakness lies with his family. He will do everything in his power to protect them, getting too close can mean one of two things: Either he will pursue with more vigor if I threaten his family, or he will fall back with cowardice.

It will be fun to watch the reaction.

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Hmm my first attempt at first person, not too shabby. Listening to stealth music while writing this caused my hair to stand on end...What are your thoughts here? It's our first glimpse into the mind of the serial killer, and you see they aren't acting alone. It'll be interesting to see you try to figure out who both the assassin and the caller are. The assassin will slowly be identified through subtle clues until identified later-for the reader-but the caller won't be identified until close to the end.


	3. Bitter, Angry Souls

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

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Chapter 3 (Bitter Angry Souls)

"A fucking _F?"_ Jade's scream pierced Tori's eardrums, causing her to almost fall from her chair. The agitated goth shuffled the paper in the air and glared up at her teacher. "How do you give me an F on this paper? I studied, I know the material, my answers are correct!"

Tori leaned over Jade's shoulder, peering down at the test. One of the first questions asked her to define 'denouncement', to which she answered that it was the final act of a play where the conclusion was wrapped up cleanly. It was the correct answer, but Mr. Sikowitz marked her off.

Nearly every answer on Jade's paper had an ex, and many of the answers she gave were the same as Tori's, but Tori passed the test with flying colors. "He gave me a C," Robbie muttered in response. "I knew most of the answers too." Jade scoffed and spread her arms out, glaring at her teacher.

Tori looked up to the man, twisting her lips with confusion and raising a curious eyebrow. Sikowitz's body was rigid and his arms were folded tight across his chest. A scowl swept over his face and his eyes were sharp and piercing.

"It is only one F, you'll still have enough to graduate in a couple months."

"But it's an F."

"I can see that." Sikowitz turned his back to her and walked towards his desk. He brushed the air with his hand, dismissing the girl's concerns of fairness or the lack thereof. Beck whispered for her to relax, but she was trembling and growling under her breath.

"I don't deserve an F." Jade tore the paper in half, crumpling it in her hands as she pointed to the man. "I don't deserve it. I got an A and you know it." Sikowitz turned his head, glaring sideways at Jade. The girl flinched for a second, but remained firm in her position. "I don't deserve this."

"Then tell me what you do deserve." He locked his wrists behind his back and turned fully towards the girl. His eyes darkened and an angry breath flew from his lips. "My nephew is dead because of your actions. Did he deserve that?" Jade stammered and scoffed. "A prank _you_ played on his fiancé."

"It was a goddamn accident, we didn't mean anyone to get hurt."

"Oh no?" He rushed forward, pressing himself within an inch of Jade and glaring into her eyes while taking a piece of the torn test from her hand. "Well then I didn't mean for you to get upset over an F."

Tori remained silent, clutching her skirt between her fingers while remembering Jason's death. She knew about the prank her friends pulled on Trina, especially since they told her what they were doing-but it was too late to stop them by the time they brought it up.

The prank had been delivered to Trina in the form of a gift box. The 'gift' was of a ceramic dancer performing a pirouette, but there was a sign that said she was too hideous to be famous. Inside the box was a trigger that would set off a burst of confetti and a blast of loud triumphant music.

Trina was in the passenger seat of Jason's truck when she opened the gift. They were driving along the highway when it went off, startling Jason into swerving into the oncoming lane at high speeds.

By some miracle Trina survived, but she had scars all along her body from where glass and metal cut into her. Jason died in his fiancé's arms. Tori was beside herself with grief as well, because she considered him a valued friend and a part of the family.

During the funeral, none of her friends offered any condolences. They all had faces ridden with guilt and shame, but they were only sorry someone died.

Tori rose from her chair and walked over to Mr. Sikowitz, placing a calm hand on his shoulder. "Come on Mr. Sikowitz." The man's narrow eyes flew over to her and his nostrils flared. "I know you're angry. I loved Jason too, he was like family. The others….well…"

She couldn't call it a mistake, she couldn't bring herself to say it was an accident, but she wanted to defend her friends in some way. She was angry over the loss too, but there was nothing to be done.

"Failing them because of what happened will not bring him back." Tears overflowed from beneath his eyelids and he sank down into his leather chair. Tori lowered her hand, scrunching her eyebrows together as she watched the man shake and weep.

"He didn't deserve to die," Sikowitz muttered between sobs. "My boy. My nephew. He was like a son to me." Tori balled up her fists and lowered her chin to her chest. Her eyes shut tight to hold in her bitter tears while her heart burst with anger. "They don't even care that they're the reason he's gone!"

"That isn't true," Beck replied. He spoke calmly, as if it would soothe the tension in the air. Most of the other students in the class were watching on in silence, casting nervous glances at one another. "We never meant for anyone to be hurt, it was just a prank. Just a stupid, dumbass prank."

"You say that now," Cat muttered. Tori raised her head and opened her eyes into narrow slits. The redhead folded her arms and looked away at the windows. "It's your fault and you know it. You guys always act so superior, treating anyone you think you're better than like shit, and the one time it goes horribly wrong…what happens?" Cat threw her hands into the air and ripped out a bitter laugh. "You only regret that your prank messed up."

Beck twisted around, shooting off a glare. "What are you saying?" Cat shrugged, remaining unfazed by the accusation in his eyes.

"That you're vain, narcissistic assholes that care only about yourselves and the minute your bullying goes horribly wrong, you refuse to accept responsibility?" Cat scoffed and jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at Robbie. "It wouldn't be the first time one of you put Trina in the hospital, either."

Robbie tensed and instantly went on the defense. "Why are you pointing at me? I didn't do anything." Cat's voice rose to a feverish pitch and she made a hissing sound when turning to him.

"Like we don't know it was you. We were the only ones in that auditorium and you were the only one with access to the stupid harness. Just admit it, you're to blame."

"Maybe it was Rex."

This time Andre spoke up, rolling his eyes and smacking Robbie across the shoulder. "Shut up about your damn puppet, man. We all know it's just you talking through him, we aren't stupid." Robbie protested in an instant and soon they all were shouting to get their opinion out.

Tori watched in silence, shaking her head while her friends continued their inane banter. Meanwhile she could see Sikowitz's trembling increasing with every passing second.

Rage flashed across his eyes and he shot up from the chair. His shout silenced the room he towered above. "Enough of this. My nephew is dead and gone, regardless of who is responsible." He lashed his arm out, pointing at the group. "You're all murderers in my book. Every one of you, and it's a shame none of you are going to jail for the rest of your lives."

"Mr. Sikowitz, they're sorry." Cat stood above the others, folding her hands neatly at her stomach and turning an accusing glare onto the group. "They really are, but they know their apologies will never be enough."

She didn't have to speak for them, though Tori appreciated it. There was a bitterness in the girl's voice that resonated with her, vibrating against her skin and raising her hair on its end.

"Honestly Mr. Sikowitz, while they're sorry their prank killed someone, that's all they're sorry about. They meant to hurt Trina, they meant to make her feel bad about herself one last time, and it wound up affecting someone besides her."

"God Cat it was an accident."

"An accident that ended up with someone _dead_ , and you have nothing to offer besides 'it was a mistake'." Cat spun around, pointing at the crew. "Why do you think I've started to hang with my roommate more and less with you? You bully people you think you're better than, you don't care about anyone but yourselves, and you don't take responsibility for the things you do." Cat put her hands on her waist and started to growl as the others bowed their heads. They looked as though they were being scolded by their mother; a sight Tori found amusing.

"You're crazy! Somebody is dead because you tried to pull a prank on someone that you've been bullying on a regular basis for the last five years. Own up to it, because until you do, Mr. Sikowitz is right to call you all murderers."

"She's right," Jade whispered, "We did screw up. Badly." The girl's eyes welled up with tears and she spread her arms out sideways. "But what is there to say? I don't know what to say besides 'I'm sorry' and 'what I did was wrong'. It's no use, everyone's angry at us and there's _nothing_ we can do about it."

"Yeah well you're all still bullies, and you know what? Bullies get what's coming to them in the end." Cat folded her arms and Jade dropped her jaw to the floor.

"Are you threatening us?"

"Threatening?" The redhead chuckled and shook her head. "No Jade. I'm telling it like it is. If karma doesn't bite you in the ass eventually, something else might. I'm warning you to be careful what you do and who you step on, because somehow it's going to come right back around to you one day. It always does in the end."

Just then a woman's voice came over the intercom, and a hush fell over the room. "Students…" It was the assistant principal. When Tori heard the shakiness in her voice, a knot started to form in her stomach. "There is going to be a mandatory assembly in the auditorium in thirty minutes." The woman sniffled, creating a noise over the microphone that sounded like paper ripping in two. "Please begin making your way there immediately."

The class began to murmur while moving from their seats, Tori remained standing and staring at the speaker on the wall. It was odd that the assistant principal was calling for an assembly, usually Principal Eikner called all the students for one.

"That's weird," Andre whispered while passing by Tori. "Usually Eikner's the one calling an emergency assembly. I wonder what the problem is."

It didn't take long for the entire student body to file into the auditorium. The assistant principal stood behind a podium on the stage, and two her right was David and his partner on the job, Gary. Along with them was Trina, standing with her hands behind her back and a stern expression on her face.

It wasn't a surprise seeing her, since Trina had taken up an internship at the police department. It was more of a surprise seeing David and Gary standing next to Mrs. Belknap.

Mrs. Belknap waited for the students to settle in. Her hands folded over the edges of the podium, grasping firmly. Her pouty lips quivered nervously as her beady eyes darted from side to side.

"Students, I have terrible news." Tori laced her fingers together and placed them over her abdomen as she sank into the cushioned chair. She saw Trina turn her head and locked eyes with her, hoping for some sign of something-whatever sign that was, she didn't know.

Trina bore a deep frown and her eyes were filled with a strange kind of sorrow that she hadn't seen for some time.

"Principal Eikner was found dead in his home this morning." Tori snapped her head to the woman as a resounding gasp swept like a tidal wave across the student body. "The police suspect foul play."

The woman stepped aside, nodding with respect as David took the podium. He adjusted the mic to his height and cleared his throat into it. "Students. Faculty. Staff. While we cannot reveal much at this point of time, I want to reassure you that we will find whomever it is responsible for this crime." He moved his head to the right, then the left. His jaw was firm and his sharp eyes were filled with confidence and determination. "I would strongly advise you to continue your daily activities as you are, and to remain calm."

She knew what he meant by saying this, though the other students didn't. He suspected more bodies, but didn't want to say that without being certain that this was true. He needed to ensure the community would remain calm, that chaos would only make things worse and more difficult for the police to do their jobs.

"I assure you, we have the situation under control. I have spent nearly thirty years on the force protecting this town, and I will stop at nothing to keep our community safe."

The questions began filling the air like a sinister cloud, and one question sent chills down Tori's spine. "Is there a serial killer? There's been two murderers within a week, it's a serial killer!"

David raised his hands to assuage the speaker. "Now, now, we do not have enough to say for sure whether the two are connected in any way. Relax and rest assured we will do our best to keep this community safe."

The more her father spoke the more he tried to calm the masses. Tori became more uneasy about the whole thing and was terrified of the possibility of a serial killer lurking about.

She felt someone nudging her and glanced at Jade, who was paler than usual and wide eyed with shock. "Thank god your father's a cop, Tori." She raised an eyebrow, surprised at the girl.

"This worries you? _This_ worries _you?"_

"Well yeah." Jade jerked back and darted her eyes to the side. "Just because I act all scary and shit doesn't mean I'm not going to be afraid of a killer. I'm still human like everyone else."

"Says the girl responsible for the death of my sister's fiancé."

"Come on Tori. You know that's not fair…you have to get over it sometime."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Just because it's an accident in your mind doesn't mean the people close to him think it was an accident." Jade dropped her shoulders and sighed heavily.

"Fine."

"Don't think I've forgotten about Ian and Courtney yet, either." Jade's eyes went wide and she looked aghast at the mere mention of the two.

"Are you still bent up about them too? Come on Tori, if they didn't have the decency to shrug off our jokes about them being nerds, then they're not good enough for you."

"It was a little more than that. You've been a vindictive, mean, hateful and bitter bitch since the day I met you Jade…you've picked on me, you've picked on Trina, and everyone else in the school. You don't even _care_ how your actions affect people."

Jade looked away, huffing under her breath. "Look. Tori. I know I've done some pretty bad things, I don't deserve your friendship, but I don't want to lose it. None of us do. Especially not now, if there really is a killer on the loose."

The girl had a point, they all needed to stick together now more than ever. "Alright, but if you screw up one more time…" She raised a finger and slid it across her throat to symbolize termination of the friendship.

Jade flinched and the others looked over solemnly. "Right I get it." Jade breathed in deep and shook her head. "I'll do my best."

It would be a long time before Tori forgave Jade for Jason's death or Ian and Courtney leaving her. She loved Ian, so his rejection was like a punch to the gut. Part of her wanted Jade to know how rejection felt, but there was little chance of Beck rejecting the girl now.

* * *

What are your thoughts with this chapter? We've learned a little background of some terrible events that have taken place, but will that play into anything? Who can say? We know right now the serial killer is targeting those associated with Hollywood Arts...


	4. Night of Rest

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 4 (Night of Rest)

"Can you believe someone killed Principal Eikner?" Robbie's cards shivered in his fingers, nearly falling from his hand and onto the table. Trina looked at him from the couch, suddenly more interested in him than the book in her lap. "I mean who would want to hurt the guy?"

"Who knows man." Andre pat Robbie on the shoulder and narrowed his eyes. "Chill the fuck out, okay? We're all uneasy, so we'd like to not think about it for a while." He glanced at the empty chair across from him and his lips brushed together. "Where'd Tori go, again?"

"Upstairs." Trina set her book on the couch and adjusted the bottom of her shirt. "I'll go get her." Tori had left her friends to play a game or two of poker on their own while she took a quick nap to rest a migraine she was complaining about.

Trina was almost to the stairs when she heard one of the friends ask if she wanted one of them to go check on Tori with her. She smiled at them and waved them off. "No, I'd better check on her myself." Tori was finicky about her privacy upstairs, so any one of the friends going up would irritate her.

She reached Tori's bedroom to find the door closed and locked, so she knocked gently on the door and called out to her. "Are you awake? The others are wondering where you're at."

"I'm awake. Come in."

"Door's locked." She heard a heavy sigh and waited for the sound of the latch clicking open. The door swung open and Tori was staring back with puffy eyelids and streaks down her cheeks. She was wearing a towel around her body, and water was dripping from her drenched hair.

The bedsheets had been ripped off the bed and were crumpled into a ball on the mattress. Sensing something terrible had happened, Trina glanced to the upstairs bathroom and saw tiny puddles of water coming from it.

"It happened again," Tori said under her breath. Her eyes were full of anger and shame, and her teeth were clenched together. "I don't understand. Ever since I was a kid…"

They walked to the bed and sat on the corner edge. Trina pulled her sister into a hug, letting her rest her head on her shoulder. "I'm here for you. You know that." This was an issue both of them had at one point, but for Trina she was able to control it more and it happened less often than when she was a child. For Tori, it was still unpredictable, and almost any time she slept, she would have to do so with a towel.

Though lately it had been happening less frequently, so the girls thought this was a good sign.

As far as they knew, their parents didn't know; they never wanted to tell them. Neither David or Holly had ever been told what Uncle Benny had done when they were young either, it just wasn't something they felt anyone needed to know. Although Jason had been the closest to being told, he was the first person Trina and Tori trusted enough to tell, but they hadn't gotten the chance.

"I thought it had been getting better? Maybe it's all the stress lately."

"Maybe." Tori's hand slid down Trina's forearm and clutched her hand tight. Trina cast a warm smile at her sister and squeezed her hand gently. Her eyes drifted down to Tori's hand and seeing red marks on the girl's knuckles, her lips dropped to a frown. "Part of me wishes I never left Sherwood. All the performances are nice but I miss the science, I miss my old friends."

"Have you talked to Ian and Courtney since the fight?"

"They won't talk to me." Tori rolled her head upright and breathed in slow. "Courtney says she's going to be moving to wherever her brother goes to college, so whenever Sinjin leaves, she's gone."

"I'm sorry."

Tori raised her head, scrunching her brow and lips. "You'll never leave though? We'll always be together?" Trina caressed her sister's hair, grooming it back while speaking with a whisper.

"Always."

"These days it doesn't seem like there's anyone to rely on anymore. With my friends at odds with my other friends, the people we care about leave us…Mom doesn't talk to us, Dad's always busy with work."

She hugged Tori tighter and pat the girl's back. "We'll always have each other, sis." She was concerned about everything going on as well, but she had to try and keep a calm head. "I know you're upset with your friends, right now they're scared because there's a killer out there, and so are we. It might be good to try and spend some time with them regardless of anger towards them."

Tori hugged her waist and raised her shoulders up. "I'm becoming disenchanted with them. They said they'll try to hold back on insults and bullying, but I don't believe them. They won't change." Tori's eyes dimmed and froze on the shadows being cast onto the ground. "They'll never change."

"You don't know that for sure." Trina walked to the closet and grabbed an outfit for her sister. Tori glanced up with a faint smile and rose from the bed. "Come on. I'm going to practice some formations, you might as well finish out a few poker games with your friends."

"I suppose." Trina placed the yellow tank and pink jacket on the bed, then grabbed a knee-length red skirt from the dress. It was one of her favorite outfits to see her sister in, she thought it was conservative and warm, easy to relax in.

Tori dressed quickly and Trina took the bedsheets down to the washer. She figured if they got put in right away, Holly might not notice and start asking if there was a problem. Granted, their mother was unlikely to concern herself with these things, but she wanted to take every precaution necessary.

Once the washer was going, she dragged her punching mannequin out into the living room. "Oh look," she heard Robbie say with a squeak in his voice. "Your sister's got the mannequin out." Andre belted with an open laugh and smacked Robbie's shoulder.

"Remember that time we were looking after her for Tori when she got the wisdom teeth taken out?"

"Yes. She kicked our asses."

Trina closed her eyes and walked around the mannequin as she grabbed the edges of her black belt and pulled it tight around her waist. "I don't like people touching or putting things around my mouth. Especially men." Her shoulders jumped and she swung her arms in an arc, warming them up before setting into her stretches.

Beck glanced at Jade, then to his cards. "A girl that is strong and can fight is always attractive. I know Jade's like that." Jade blushed, then denied being involved in anything involving combat. He smirked at his girlfriend and leaned into her. "You could be if you wanted."

"Yeah," she admitted softly. Trina struck the mannequin in the chest with a strong right jab, then followed up with a high sweeping kick to the head. Each hit was met with a shout. Her body remained centered and balanced and her eyes were sharp like a knife. Jade whistled and the others watched in awe. "I don't think I'd ever be that good, though."

Trina jumped back, huffing twice. "I'm a black belt, I've been training for years." She took a deep breath and glanced sideways at Jade. "You could be good like this, you just have to practice. It's like your singing and acting, you don't just stumble upon being perfect. You have to train, you have to practice. Grow your skills."

Jade hopped from the chair. Trina tensed her muscles as Jade began her approach. The girl was gazing curiously at the mannequin and gently tapping her finger on her chin.

"Think you could teach me, sometime?"

"Sure, if you're really interested." Though she was wary of Jade and the others after Jason's death, she figured now wasn't the time to distance herself from them. The principal's death had everybody on edge, and so close to another very similar murder. This wasn't the time for bitterness or anger, this was a time to be there for one another. "It's great for defense of self as well."

"Yeah, I could see that being beneficial."

"I can't," Robbie muttered. Trina raised her head up, looking at him with disappointment. "I mean with Jade, anyway. She's liable to use whatever you teach her to abuse people even more." Jade winced and shook her head.

"Forget it then." She clenched her hands and turned away with a sigh. Trina reached out to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder before she could leave.

"Hold on there, Jade. If you're really interested in learning the ropes, I will be more than happy to teach you." Jade turned back around with a hopeful smile, ignoring the disgusted grunts from both Robbie and Andre. She understood their suspicion, but she would make sure Jade wasn't going to learn for that purpose. "You must remember though, one of the most important rules of learning martial arts-you learn it to defend. Don't learn it if you're only learning for the intention of hurting people."

"I understand."

"I won't teach it if you plan on learning just to control and abuse."

Tori lowered her cards in her lap and studied Jade carefully. "Are you sure?" Tori asked. "I mean when do you think you'd use it?" She had a point. While Trina knew what she wanted to do, in that combat skills would help her in her career field, there was hardly a reason for Jade to need to bother with martial arts if she was never going to use or hone her abilities.

"This is something you have to keep practicing otherwise you'll lose the skill." Trina crossed her arms and Jade glanced at her as though she were beginning to tower above her. "If you learn the skill, you should keep training, keep practicing, keep improving. Get stronger, otherwise you will lose what you learn. Though, that applies with almost anything."

"I'll keep practicing." Jade grinned hopefully and nodded. "I mean it, I'm really interested in this martial arts thing. I'd like to know some good self defense techniques anyway."

"Won't be easy." Trina hung her elbow over the shoulder of her mannequin and gently pat the chest with her hand. "I'm a tougher teacher than you think. After all, I learned a lot from Jason, and he was a difficult trainer. I've got high expectations."

"I get it, I'll learn."

"Okay." She pushed away from the mannequin and guided Jade to the center of the living room. "I'll teach you a basic formation. I want you to practice it in this next week, memorize it, and perform it for me at the end of the week." Jade nodded slowly and Trina smirked. "But first I need to teach you the basics of posture, form, and so on."

"Okay."

Trina stepped behind Jade, positioning her hands onto the girl's waist. "Your waist is the center of gravity, this must always be balanced. If you're not centered, it's easy for someone to throw you over."

She bent and pushed at the back of Jade's knees. "Bend your knees and squat a bit. Spread your legs apart. It will maintain the best center of gravity for you." The girl did as instructed. "Now extend your right arm, perfectly straight with your fist closed."

"Like this?" Jade punched forward and held her arm in place.

"Yes. That is a frontal punch. Swift, powerful and straight. Don't bend the elbow, don't punch slow, and don't be caught unaware." In the background she heard one of the guys mention the temperature in the room getting hotter, but she ignored this as she walked to the right of Jade. "Watch as I do."

She got into proper stance and Jade took a few steps back. Trina thrust her right fist forward, then pulled it back, locking her wrist against her waist as she punched her left fist forward. She performed a swift frontal kick, followed by a second, then threw her right fist down in a low side block.

Trina turned her body and proceeded with her formation before adding in a back kick. As she got into the mood, she began to improvise, adding more advanced moves into her formation.

Jade's eyes grew as Trina dropped to the ground, catching herself with her hands and sweeping her legs out on both sides. She rose up, delivering a strong right uppercut to the air, followed with a left frontal punch.

By the end of her formation, she was breathing heavily and sweat was glinting off her body. Tori was smirking and shaking her head at her. "Now you're just showing off," remarked her sister.

"Yeah." Jade's head was tilted to the right, her arms were crossed and she was standing with her heels together. "I don't think I can do all of what you just did." Trina rose and flashed a casual smirk.

"You can with enough practice. Don't worry, I'll show you the most basic moves just to get you started."

* * *

Learning some martial arts may be a good thing for Jade. Hell, it's probably a good thing Trina knows martial arts. What are your thoughts? What observations and speculations do you have at this point? Do you think the friends are safe, so far with the murders being staff associated with Hollywood Arts, or could the school be a ruse? Or perhaps it is just one of two separate goals?


	5. Connections to Make

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 5 (Connections)

"In the news today the Shadow Slayer has claimed his third victim," said the blonde reporter standing before a small one story home. Trina watched with an unsettled gaze. The television remote in her hand was bouncing on her right knee, and her left foot tapped the ground anxiously.

The people of Hollywood Arts were growing more on edge than ever with the latest victim, and her father was agonizing over this case more than he had any other.

The brown stone built home was framed by police tape, the front window of the house was wide open and nothing outside had been disturbed. "There's no sign of forced entry," said reporter Lenora Grant. "But police suspect the perpetrator entered through the front window, though there's no indicator that it was either shut or locked."

Trina turned to look at the windows in their front room, holding her breath as she studied the latch. Shaking her head, she looked back at the news report and her heart grew still when the picture of the school's most trusted guidance counselor popped onto the screen.

"Mr. Lane Alexander was found by his wife and children in the early hours of the morning. In a statement by his spouse, Lane had been staying up through the night to try and get some reading done in his study. He had been attempting to calm the students at his school due to the recent killings taking place."

"God it's getting out of hand," Trina muttered. She pushed her left hand through her hair and shut her eyes. "At least Tori and I are on the second floor. As if that would make a difference in the world."

Lenora wiped her wet face with a handkerchief and apologized to the cameraman. Though she did not say, it was no secret that Lane had been cheating on his wife with a certain Channel 8 news reporter. Trina felt it was a strange poetic justice that the very reporter would be the one covering this tragedy.

"The police would not give any details as to how the murder initially happened. Captain Vega is in charge of this investigation and he tells us that the police are doing everything in their power to find the person responsible."

David already had a connection made, from what Trina understood. He said it was a theory at this point, but Lane and Eikner were both connected to Hollywood Arts. The only thing that he questioned was the first victim; Benito had nothing linking him to the school besides a couple nieces that attended it. Even then, he wasn't someone of considerable influence or sway like a principal, a counselor, or even a teacher.

"It's probably better the public doesn't know the gory details." She knew from looking over the case files with her father just how bad the murders were. It was hard for her to stomach, but she had to learn to handle it since it would be the line of work she was going into. "Can't imagine the chaos if everyone knew just how terrible those deaths were."

The front door flew open and laughter sent chills down Trina's spine. She looked up to see her mother stumbling in as though she were drunk, and Gary was holding his arm around her waist in order to stabilize her.

Anger shot through her and she jumped from the couch, exclaiming at her mother. "Keep your affair out of our house, mom." The couple froze and after several seconds, Holly waved her hand in the air with an abrupt laugh.

"Oh don't worry about it sweetie, your father doesn't care. It isn't as though he doesn't know. He's too busy with his work to care."

She grasped her left hip and pointed the remote at the television. "There is a psychopath out there, murdering almost anyone they can get their hands on. I think Dad's in the right to be working so hard. You should be supporting him." She stormed forward, bringing the remote to Gary's chest. "And you're his goddamn partner on the job. His friend. This isn't right, and you know it. How could you betray him like this?"

"Relax." Gary flashed an innocent smile and walked Holly over to the couch. "She showed up at the department like this, your father asked me to go ahead and bring her home."

Trina grabbed her mother, pulling her away from Gary and forcing her to the couch. "Yeah, I thought Dad was the alcoholic." Gary straightened his jacket and sighed heavily.

"David's stopped drinking ever since your uncle's death, he's been putting all his focus on this case." Trina glanced sideways at him and narrowed her eyes as Gary approached her. "I think it's better that he's stopped drinking, he concentrates a lot more without alcohol in his system. All the coffee strengthens that focus of his too. Your father's not going to rest until he's got this maniac."

"Well he shouldn't, but at least he's not drinking so much."

"Hey, if he can catch this killer he might get a promotion as well." Gary laughed and folded his arms. "Not that he cares about that. I think he's more concerned about stopping the body count while it's low."

"Yeah." She moved to the kitchen and grabbed the pot of coffee and some bread to help her mother sober up. "What do you make of it anyway, Gary? The killer attacking Hollywood Arts. Why? Why do you think?"

"Not sure. Your father has no clue yet, he isn't even certain if that's the connection we should be looking at." Trina hummed as she poured the coffee into a large mug. Gary walked to the counter and took a seat on one of the stools. "If that's the case and the first victim has anything to do with HA, it might just be related to your father and the fact that you girls attend the school."

"I've graduated, but I guess I can see the connection there." She returned the pot to it's holder and dropped her shoulders. "Maybe that's what the killer wants? Dad working the case?"

"Who knows. Your uncle's murder is what got your father working this. When he learned his brother was murdered, he demanded to be put in charge. Then your principal turns up dead. Same manner, same style, possibly the same weapon…"

"And now Lane."

Gary pressed his lips together and folded his hands on the counter. "It's not pretty, Trina. That's for damned sure. David's concerned with you helping him out, he's glad for it but he also knows the details are gory and this kind of work can be grating on someone's mental state and emotions."

"I'll be fine." She walked the cup to her mother and set it down on the coffee table beside the woman. Holly draped her left arm over her abdomen and turned her head, staring blankly at the cup. "Drink the damn coffee, mother." Holly continued to stare with empty eyes, dropping her right arm off the couch and onto the floor. "Is she drunk or drugged?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. She showed up at the department acting all crazy, mumbling about how your uncle deserved what he got and how she wanted to be 'put out of misery'."

"Interesting…" Trina looked with pittance at her mother, shaking her head slowly before turning away. "I don't know if Uncle Benny deserved to die the way he did, but I know he wasn't a good man like Dad thinks." Gary's brow furrowed and he stood up, putting his hands to his hips.

"What do you mean?"

"He was a child molester, Gary." Gary's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. "Don't ask me how I know, and I'd prefer you didn't tell Dad." She walked past him and took a deep breath. "I don't want to spoil Dad's memory of his only brother."

She didn't know what her mother knew, or how her mother knew anything about Benny. If Holly thought the man deserved to die, then there had to be something to it, but it was clear the woman was in no state to talk about it.

"Trina, if your uncle was accused of that, do you think there's a connection there?"

"Probably not, no. I have no idea what connection there'd be." She walked around the counter and stared at the television. "Thinking about it. Principal Eikner was the head of Hollywood Arts, the man in charge and probably the most in control of the school. Next was Lane, the counselor. He could keep everyone calm in a crisis state like this, and maybe even prevent the school from collapsing. Maybe that's it? Maybe the killer wants Hollywood Arts to shut down permanently?"

"If that's the case…" Gary frowned and ran his hand over his chin. "Then it might be working. With Lane's death, parents are already talking about pulling their children from the school. Even David said if it wasn't for Tori graduating in a few weeks, he'd pull her from the school and send her back to Sherwood."

"She never should have left that school in the first place."

"Weren't you the one that encouraged her to stick with it?"

"I was, but I was wrong." His eyebrow rose and Trina calmly leaned over the counter. "She's been unhappy there. She made friends with a bully, a group of kids that changed her from the happy and intelligent girl she was at Sherwood."

"I see."

"If I knew the way things would have turned out, I would never have let her go." It had become harder to look after Tori there as well due to the friends she made. Jade and the others kept her away, they pushed Trina from Tori to keep her all to themselves. "She just wasn't the same again, but she's my little sister and I've always tried to look out for her."

"You care about her, that's a good thing." Gary chuckled softly while pouring himself some coffee. "You might think David doesn't pay attention to you girls, but you're all he talks about." Her heart jumped and she started to smile as Gary's eyes met hers. "He's proud of you both, says the two of you have always been close like you'd go to the ends of the earth for one another."

"We would."

"He loves you. I think that's one reason he's trying so hard right now, because he's worried. He knows his girls go to that school, and he knows anyone that goes there is a target."

"I'm glad to see he's so concerned about us."

"He wants the best for you both. He's always put the most in his job so you two could have everything you wanted."

"That's nice." She closed her eyes and her smile grew. It was one thing to have that, but what she and Tori had always desired was just to have their father around more. Money wasn't what they wanted, they didn't care about material objects so much as they just wanted to spend time with their father. "It would also be nice if he were around more."

"I understand."

"Yeah, and now this psycho decides to show up. Crazed killer's going to get all my dad's attention." She rolled her eyes and Gary reached over, patting her wrist gently while trying to reassure her with a smile.

"I'll try talking to him. I'm sure when all this is over he'll devote more time to the two of you." Her heartbeat faltered and her eyes dropped towards the table as she pulled her wrist away from him.

"Maybe." Her mother screamed, sending a jolt of panic through her. Holly's arm shot out, smashing into the coffee mug and dropping it to the floor. "Jesus, mom." Trina ran around the counter and towards her mother, growling as she scrambled to pick up the shattered cup.

Gary stood and watched the scene with a worried glint in his eyes. "Do you want me to get her to the hospital?"

"Please." Her mother needed help and she needed it now, whatever that may be. "So tired of worrying about her right now. Always depressed, always something with her." She breathed an exhausted sigh and shook her head. "I'll clean up, you drive mom to the doctor."

* * *

Alright, now I've got to get to work on some last minute homework. That has nothing to do with this story. Tell me what your thoughts and observations on this chapter are, and your speculations if any at this point. Another victim, and the serial killer already has a nickname.


	6. Merciful Death

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 6 (Merciful Death)

With the counselor gone, the school was in shambles. Parents were concerned their children would begin to be targeted and were getting ready to pull their students out, while teachers and staff were looking for opportunities elsewhere. There is little interest in the public to fill the vacancies left behind by Eikner and Lane, and Mrs. Belknap has stated she would retire if not for the fact that she is now the highest ranked leader of the school.

There are some, such as Mr. Sikowitz vowed to remain, unmoved and unafraid. These staff members would remain with the school until the end, preparing to defend their lives and the lives of their students.

He is a fortunate one, though, as I have little argument with him. Though Sikowitz is one of the most powerful and influential teachers at the school, he shall not become my prey.

The caller has not yet determined that they are ready to begin attacking the students. We want our targets to become far more unsettled than they already are. The next target has been identified, however, and I am ready to unsheathe my sword upon him.

The burner phone was heavy against my ear as I force myself to retain my composure while listening to the static on the other end of the line. "Yes, this person is a very wealthy donor to the school, but more than that, he has a daughter. Make sure she's the one that finds the body." With a sigh, I hang up and look upon the two story brick home.

The donor was a wealthy businessman, for whom if his donations to the school dropped, they would lose half the funding to keep their doors open. After all, Hollywood Arts relied on donations from the public. Still, besides Lane, this was the first time we were specifically going to allow the victim's child to discover the body.

"So be it." The police knew I was entering through the windows, and people were beginning to grow smarter about shutting them, but this wasn't an issue for me.

At the front door lays a welcome mat, and while I'm checking beneath it, I stumble upon a spare key resting in a small crevice. Carefully I unlock the door and slide into the home, but there's a different feeling in this house than that of those I've been in.

There's little sense of security, little sense of joy. All I feel is sorrow and grief surrounding me, and it feels me with a sense of despair.

Having researched my target, I am aware this is a single father who retained custody of his child many years ago. He is distant and cold, and yet he is the parent that cares for his daughter when his wife was always abusive to them.

For a split second I have my doubts, but knowing the daughter may be within my crosshairs someday, I push those doubts away and press onward to the best of my ability.

Tonight she is with her lover, so I know there will be no one in the home save for the target himself. Even still, I am careful to check my surroundings, to ensure that I am fully aware on the chance there may be the unsuspected guest.

The living room is bleak, with only a recliner that sits in front of a television. There are no pictures upon the white painted walls, there are no curtains to adorn the bare, glossy windows.

A sigh grows in my chest and flows from my lips as I pass through the kitchen. Much like the living room it is barren. The kitchen counter is clean, the sink bears no dishes. The kitchen table is a tiny, grey folding table with two steel folding chairs.

Either this man was very cheap or his depression didn't allow him to buy the necessary things. "The way I see it," I say with a whisper, "I'm doing your daughter a favor."

Yet as I pass an open bedroom, the sight tantalizes and draws my gaze. My heart flutters as I see a burgundy sash framing the top of the bedroom walls, and elaborate black curtains framing the bedroom windows.

The bed is built for that of a princess, with dark sheets and comforters, large fluffy pillows with a lace trim. In the back corner of the room is a giant teddy bear, and next to it is a large desk with an expensive laptop.

The daughter had a large flat screen television and a huge game system hooked up to the wall. I can feel the knots tightening in my gut as anger pulses from my heart. "Jesus, she gets treated like a fucking princess!" Knowing who the girl was, and knowing how she acts, it was aggravating to see someone getting everything she could ever want from their father and acting like an ungrateful spoiled brat that doesn't get anything she wants while rebelling against a father that loves her.

It would be good to see her entire world collapse in on itself.

I forced myself away from the bedroom and continued through the rest of the house, heading upstairs and towards the man's room. The walls remained the same as they were elsewhere; empty.

Eventually I reached the man's bedroom and was aghast at what I saw. He was asleep on a twin sized bed, unlike the queen sized his daughter has, and is covered up as several small fans are blowing on him.

It didn't take long for me to figure out what was happening here. The man was spending half his savings donating to the school, and the other half of his income spending on his daughter. This was beginning to feel more like a mercy killing than an execution.

Slowly I wrap my fingers around the grip of my wakizashi and slide it from the sheathe. There feels like very little reason mutilate this man, and while I want to send a message, there was a certain line that didn't need to be crossed with him.

Having separated an abusive wife and treating his daughter like royalty while she acted like an ungrateful child rebelling against him for whatever purpose was unknown, this man has earned himself a clean and simple death. He doesn't need to be used by anymore women in his life.

"Don't worry," I whisper while narrowing my eyes upon the target. "You won't live to see your daughter turn into her mother. I do pity her lover, however."

Approaching him, I see his eyes open and his body tense. I have to think fast and kill him before he has a chance to fight back. "Who are you?" The man asks. "What are you doing in my house? What do you want?" He sat upright and I can see his eyes beginning to drift towards the nightstand beside his bed.

There's no doubt in my mind he has a gun in the drawer, and as he reaches for it, I lunge for him and sweep my sword across his arm. He lurches back, crying in anguish as blood spurts from the gash shooting from his elbow to the side of his hand.

The man grabs his arm and leaps from the bed, screaming as he tries to run for the door. I pursue him without a thought. Thrusting my blade forward, I watch as it plunges and sinks into his lower back like a tree falling into the ocean.

His body jerks and his shoulder blades close together as he brings his arms back towards me. As he drops to his knees, I feel a surge of confidence and certainty. A shiver overtakes the man as he looks up at me with wide eyes.

"Did you love your daughter?" I ask him. He begins to whimper, his eyes close and tears drip from the corners as he nods his head. "Does your daughter love you? You give her everything, but did she love you?"

I'm only curious to know what his thoughts are on the matter. Normally I wouldn't speak to my victim, I don't want to get close to them-to feel anything for them lest I sympathize.

"I don't know," he responds. "She doesn't say anything, she doesn't talk to me. I give her everything she could ever want, I keep her from that vicious bitch of a mother that would only hurt her, and she does nothing."

"Then I am sorry. You've been used by your wife, you've been used by your daughter." He gasped and raised his head towards me. The light in his eyes was beginning to fade and his right arm was now soaked with his blood.

"Then kill me." His voice shook with a sob and he began to weep. "Please." He raised his head and spread his arms out to the sides. "End it."

"As you wish." Without another word, I push my blade into his chest and through his heart. I can feel his body tighten and jump around my sword, and the life jumps from his lips and falls into a sigh. "Go in peace."

A victim of abuse and manipulation should never have such a violent end. With this one the caller did not specify that I was to sever his head from the body, and I do not feel like committing such an atrocity.

As his torso slides away from my blade, I can't help but to watch with a sense of sorrow. I once knew someone who had been abused, so I know the pain and suffering they feel already.

My chest tightens as the man's body slumps onto the ground. Killing him in the manner that I have wasn't my intent, my intent was to kill him as he slept. Those who have been abused and mistreated are some of the lightest sleepers in the world, as far as I have seen, their minds and bodies are always alert and awaiting some sort of danger.

On the floor is a circular rug that has a sun in the center. It is with a heaviness in my heart that I pull the man onto the rug and fold his arms to his abdomen. I fold his hands neatly over one another and close my eyes to fight back the tears welling up under my eyelids.

Once the wakizashi is clean, I sheathe it and remove the katana from its place. My eyes fill with anger and the darkness shrouds my mind as I glare out the bedroom.

In most situations I am able to control myself, to think rationally and keep calm and collected, but this affects me far too deeply for that. So I make my way to the daughter's bedroom, clutching the handle of my sword tight with my hands.

Several heavy breaths fall from my body as I glare at the objects in the room, and with one final burst of adrenaline, I lunge forward with my blade raised high. Feathers fly around me as my katana crashes through the bed sheets.

The television crackles and splinters with the weight of my every stab. The large desk and laptop turn to rubble under my fingers, and as a final act I slide my sword through the neck of the giant teddy bear-severing its head from the body.

Finally I feel my rage drop like a weight from my shoulders and I stand with heavy breaths in the doorway. "Let's see if you appreciate what you have when it's gone, oh gothic queen."

As the hours pass, I wait to see who arrives, but my patience begins to wane and I'm starting to contemplate finding the daughter myself. Tapping my left foot anxiously on the roof of the building I'm perched upon, I look to the rising sun.

The wind brushes against the skin revealed by the slit in my mask, but my body is too numb to feel the comfort of the breeze.

I can hear a car's engine to my right, but I can only look with nonchalance as several cars have passed by now. This time is different, it's the truck owned by the daughter's lover, and in it are the couple.

"Finally," I say with an growl of exhaustion. The lover waits by the curb as the dark haired teenager leaves his vehicle and goes towards her home. Once she enters, I see the lover focusing his eyes on something across the street.

It's a woman with velvet brown hair, a white tank and tiny denim shorts. My heart begins to sink and I can feel the darkness returning. Before I can react, I hear a sudden shriek that sounds like music to my ears.

"Beck! Beck come quick!" The girl runs from the house, waving her arms in the air. Her eyes bear the horror I was hoping for. Beck leaps from the car and practically slides across the hood to reach his girlfriend. "Call the police, call Mr. Vega." She clings to his chest and buries her face into his shirt. "He's dead, my daddy's dead."

* * *

Boom, we're circling the drain. What are your thoughts here? The killer has shown themselves to show mercy as well and it's the first victim with a direct link to the group.


	7. Father and Daughter Team

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 7 (Father and Daughter)

Tori held Jade in her arms on the couch, doing her best to comfort the grieving girl. Trina was seated with them on the far end, leaning over and gently patting the girl on the back. "I just don't understand," Jade cried in a blubbering tone. "Why my dad? Why him? He's never hurt anyone." She wiped her eyes, sniffing rapidly. "And then my room? Everything in it was destroyed!"

The others watched from the table, all had their heads bowed to avoid letting her see the horror on their faces. It was the first time someone so close to them had been killed by the assassin, so no one felt safe anymore.

If they truly felt safe before.

"That makes my father wonder if there was something more," Trina said under her breath. She didn't want to alarm Jade and make her worry that the killer might have a personal vendetta against her, but the fact that everything in her bedroom had been destroyed was something to consider. Yet it wasn't the strangest thing about the crime scene.

The man had been postured in a rather peaceful position, his head had not been severed from the spine, and he wasn't nearly as cut up or mutilated as the prior victims. Knowing that, the police found it difficult to connect him to the other victims, but they knew at least a knife had been used in the murder.

The differences were simple: No windows were open, the killer did not mutilate the victim, and stopped to destroy e verything in the house. For all intents and purposes, the police were currently questioning Jade's mother, since they were aware of a history of abuse and violence in the household.

"Yeah." Jade wiped her eyes with a wet rag that Tori grabbed for her and clutched it tight in her hand. "The police think my mom did it. My dad donated a lot of his money to the school though, and the Nightstalker has been attacking people connected to the school, right? So…I mean it could have been them?"

Tori leaned away, raising an eyebrow at her friend. "Would you rather it have been the serial killer?"

"No, but I don't want it to be my mom either." Jade brought the rag to her mouth, screaming into it as loud as she could. Trina looked to the front door, furrowing her brow as a sense of terror and uncertainty coursed through her veins.

She wanted to be able to say something, but she couldn't think of anything. While she was sad for Jade that her father was gone, she didn't feel right being the one to comfort her when Jade had been a tormentor for so many years.

The anger over Jason's death remained as well, making it hard for her to truly care about Jade's loss. Comforting her felt hypocritical, but at the very least, she would try and be a presence.

Trina pat the couch and stood up. "I'm going to check on Dad." Tori looked up and Jade slowly pulled the rag from her lips. "Tori, you got this?"

"Yeah Sis, I can deal with this."

"Alright." She pulled the sleeves of her purple shirt down past her wrist and made her way towards her father's study. David was hunched over his desk, rubbing his temples with his fingers and growling at the four photographs on his desk. "Tough process?"

David looked up and over his shoulder, smiling faintly. "Yeah. Why aren't you out there with Jade and the others?"

"Can't stomach it." She sat in the second leather chair and folded her hand over her abdomen. "I don't feel right comforting her when I'm still angry at her about what happened with Jason. I know it's wrong, but-"

"It's understandable." He closed his hands together beneath his chin and turned his head, peering down with his eyes. "You loved that man. I had a lot of respect for him, and when you care about someone so much, it's hard to let go of the pain when someone else does something to cause their death. I've seen it a million times, Trina. Homicide detective, remember?"

She dropped her gaze and breathed out slowly. "Yeah…" Her hands folded in her lap and her index fingers curled together. David turned to her, his eyes were tender and gentle and his voice was soft like a gentle melody.

"Hey, no one can fault you for being angry, or even for feeling uncomfortable comforting her right now." Her hands tightened and her eyes closed to narrow slits.

"Can I ask?" She raised her gaze to him and locked her jaw in place. "Why are they getting away with it? Jason's dead because of that stupid prank. It's almost like they're getting away with murder." A somber glint flickered in his eyes and he bowed his head.

"I know sweetheart, unfortunately with the way that circumstance is, there's nothing that I can do. It simply isn't a murder." She swallowed the anger rising up and her voice quivered as the tears welled up in her eyes.

"Why not? Why is it not at least involuntary manslaughter or something?"

"Certain factors have to be present that just aren't there, honey." He extended his fingers and took a deep breath. "The intent to harm or cause injury isn't present. Jason was driving the car, and the accident wasn't immediately after you received the gift from them. It was a few days. If it were immediate, then we might be able to get something, but that's just not the way things panned out."

He reclined his chair and dropped his hands to the desk. "More than that, Trina, any defense attorney's going to twist things up so much that you'd never get a conviction for anything."

Her hands tightened into fists and veins began to bulge from them. "That's not fair." There was no justice for Jason whatsoever. She still hoped the killer of Jade's father would be caught, but it didn't seem fair that the person she felt responsible for Jason's death would never be caught.

"I know. I know it's not. I hate to say that it's out of my hands, but sweetie, there's truly nothing I can do." David's lips sank into his cheeks and he looked at the photographs for a moment. "Tell you what, Trina. Take a look at these crime photos and tell me if you notice a physical commonality among the victims."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He placed the photos in her lap and she lifted them gingerly as a lump formed in her throat. She was uncomfortable with it at first, but she wanted to help. "Okay, well…" Eikner, Lane and Benny all had their heads severed and their bodies were badly sliced. "The first three have been decapitated and slashed probably by a knife of some sort. I'd say the decapitations would have to be with a larger bladed weapon."

"Such as a machete, perhaps?"

"Possibly." She turned her head and hummed while investigating the severed locations. "The decapitations are much too clean to have been cut in saw like motion, someone sliced through them."

"That's what I was thinking." He waved his hand gently in the air. "But the slashes don't look like they would have been done by an incredibly large weapon."

"They're sharp, like a knife."

"Right." He cleared his throat and pointed to the fourth photograph. "Now what about that victim. Is there a physicality to tie him to the other three?" She narrowed her eyes and scanned the man's body. It was clean, with only a gash on the arm, but there was a thin slit over his heart.

"He's been stabbed in the chest, just the same as the other three."

"Correct." She raised her head and saw a proud smile on her father's face, and for a moment her heart fluttered from within. "The autopsy reports all indicate that the stab is the thing that killed them. The decapitation happened after death on the first three victims. Why, then, is the fourth victim still intact?"

Her expression grew tense as she struggled to contemplate an answer. Eventually she gave in, sighing with defeat. "I don't know." He nodded expectantly and retained his smile.

"That's what I am trying to figure out." David set the photograph on his desk and poked a finger onto the picture. "This man, Henry West, is one of the biggest donors to Hollywood Arts." He moved his hand into his lap and turned his gaze onto her. His chest expanded and a gleam twinkled in his eyes. "Anyway, my point is you'll make a great investigator someday, and I couldn't be prouder."

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and smiled back. "Thanks, Dad." She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, so she looked away as soon as she could, to keep him from seeing. Truly, all she ever wanted to hear from him was he was proud of her. All of her life she wanted to make him happy.

"You okay there, kiddo?"

"Yeah." She kept her voice low to keep it from breaking. "Yeah I'm fine." Trina breathed in deep and her left foot slowly tapped the floor as she wiped her hands across her legs. "So, maybe um, maybe you'd like to play a game of chess or something sometime? Not that it's an appropriate time to ask, I just, wondered…"

"Sure." Her heart skipped a beat and she leaned forward a bit. "I'd like that. Maybe once we catch this killer, who knows what they're doing right now." Her shoulders fell and her lips twisted to a sad smile.

"Yeah, you're right." She ran a finger across her eyelids and choked on her breath for a second before glancing to the pictures. "So Dad, what do you think, the serial killer's a guy? Beheading someone, that might require a lot of upper body strength."

"Sure, but women can just as easily decapitate someone with the right amount of strength and the right weapon." His finger slid beneath his lower lip and his eyes squinted at the photographs. "It's most likely a man, but I'm not ruling out the possibility that a woman might be involved."

"A woman with a lot of upper body strength?" She shrugged and David started to nod.

"Have you ever heard of Juana Barraza?"

"No."

David turned to her, lacing his hands together in his lap and leaning back as though prepared to tell a bedtime story of sorts. "In the 1990s, down in Mexico, there was a series of murders taking place. Women, typically ages sixty and above, were being strangled to death."

"Strangulation?" Strangulation was said to be one of the most personal ways of killing, because it takes so long to kill someone that way. At least one or two minutes, and the strangler would be staring into their eyes, watching the life pass. The victim, of course would struggle and fight for life, so strangulation also required an enormous amount of strength. "Were these old women frail?"

"Not necessarily, but regardless you need a good deal of strength to hold someone in place and strangle the life out of them. This woman, Barraza, she was born to an alcoholic mother whom in the late fifties, early sixties, sold her to a man for three beers…"

Trina's eyes grew wide and she watched her father's face grow long. "The man assaulted her sexually many times, and reports suggest Barraza fathered children as a result." Her hands began to tremble and her stomach knotted up. "It's widely believed that given the ages of her victims in the 90s that this would have been the same age as her mother."

"So…she was killing her mother?"

"Over and over again." He smacked his lips and turned back to the desk. "The thing is, one questions how she had the strength to hold her victim in place long enough to strangle the life from them." His eyes drifted to the sides and his head tilted. "Juana Barraza was a professional wrestler at the time, very strong and very powerful."

Her heart dropped to her stomach and her hand rose towards her chest. She never truthfully thought about female killers having such great strength. "I've heard of women killers, but I always thought their preferred method was poison."

"A lot are, but there are still many violent deaths caused by women. When investigating homicide, particularly serial homicides, I never focus solely on the masculine gender. We live in a time where women can be equally violent-the feminists just don't want to admit equality when it comes to murder, they want women to be seen as always the victim and never the perpetrator."

"Oh?"

"That's just my opinion though." David leaned his head back and exhaled. "So you see, it is just as easy for a woman, perhaps a heavily athletic one wielding the right weapon, to decapitate these victims." Trina nodded, understanding in full what he was saying. She wouldn't ignore the possibility of a female killer either. "The trick is, we have to figure out what else is common, we have to figure out if the killer is picking off people at random, or if there's another common thread."

"We know Hollywood Arts is something, even Henry was a huge donor, right?"

"Right. So maybe it's someone that has a problem with that school, but I don't know for sure just yet." He picked up the photograph of his brother, slowly rubbing his chin and sighing. "There's still Benny. I have no idea how he's linked to _any_ of this."

"You'll find out, Dad." She rose up and pat David on the shoulder, smiling gently. "I have faith in you."

* * *

A little side note, yes Juana Barraza truly existed. The story David tells here is completely true, Barraza was a professional wrestler in Mexico who became a serial killer, strangling the life out of her victims. That said, do you think David's got a point? Should a female be considered as well as our assassin-or even the caller? What thoughts do you have? Also, thank you to everyone that is following along and giving your thoughts, they are valued and I enjoy seeing what you come up with as the mystery progresses.


	8. True Demons

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:The early update is for you Jen, because I know I showed you a scene of this chapter a while back. Here you go, sleep well tonight everybody.

* * *

Chapter 8 (True Demons)

The caller wanted to do this next kill with me, but I told them not to. The arrangement was that only I would do the killings so that if caught, only I would go to prison for it. It is the way it must be.

I was doing research on this next target, and have mixed emotions towards killing her. Another donor to Hollywood Arts. She is an old and paranoid woman, the grandmother to one of the students; Andre Harris. I do not enjoy killing the weak and defenseless, or the elderly, but this woman is shrouded in something I consider darker than myself.

When her grandson was a baby, the family moved away from her to a town in New Orleans, there were reports they considered her to be mentally challenged, or deranged and undergoing some sort of psychosis. The grandmother, Elba Richards, chased after them to New Orleans. Neighbors in the apartment complex called police multiple times on reports of shouting and objects slamming into the walls.

One day there was a mysterious fire that started from the stove; the father and two children perished in the fire while the mother and Andre barely escaped. What is said was that the mother was found in a ditch with a gunshot wound to the back of the head.

The courts tried to go after her but she played weak, vulnerable and disabled. Thus, the case was left unsolved and the police were never able to find evidence to support a disabled and weak old woman would murder her entire family just to win the right to see her grandchildren.

I must be careful with this one. If the police records are anything to go on, then the woman may be much different than she appears to be.

As far as I am aware, her grandson was elsewhere and this woman is alone. I've entered her home and she appears to be asleep in a pale blue recliner, with its back to the door. In front of her is a fireplace still burning with a warm ember.

The fire reflects off my wakizashi, giving it the appearance of being on fire. I can't help but to feel uneasy approaching this woman. There's a calm stillness in the air, and it is much too quiet for my taste.

The old woman's chair is rocking in such a slow motion that it unsettles me, and for a split second I can't help but to wonder if this woman is really sleeping. Everything in the living room is still besides a cat clock on the wall with eyes clicking left and right as each second passes.

In front of the woman is an old 1970s style television, it's turned off and I can see both my reflection and hers. When I see her reflection, I can feel the hair standing on end. Her eyes are open wide, and I can almost feel them upon me.

"You're here to kill me?" The woman asked with a sharp note in her voice. "I know who you are, I know what you are." Elba's bony fingers stretched over the arms of her chair and gripped it tight. "The only thing I don't know, is what you would want with a defenseless old woman."

"You're not defenseless." There's an unintended growl in the back of my throat, but I can't help to be on edge. Up to this point I've taken the lives of the immoral, the unjust, and the corrupt. Yet this woman was a first by far. "You've escaped justice for too long."

"Is that so?"

"You're a murderer. A killer."

"And you are?"

My heart stops and for a minute I falter. I am the pot calling the kettle black, but yet, I know deep down what I am. "I am the same. I do not hide from it, I know the truth. When my purpose is done, so too will my life be finished." I raise the wakizashi and sneer as the tip points, ever-ready, at the back of the woman's chair. "Unlike you, I am no hypocrite."

"And unlike you, I will still be alive when the night is done." Elba leapt from the chair and grabbed the cane from beside it. Much to my surprise, a hidden blade popped from the bottom. "Did you think, when I murdered my daughter and her family, that I didn't prepare for every possible outcome?"

"What outcome would you possibly need a walking stick with a hidden blade for?" Elba threw her head back, cackling wildly while spreading her arms out like a cross. "You couldn't have suspected someone would be sent to assassinate you."

"When you've been married to the mob for twenty years, you expect it." My heart stops and the usual stillness in my arm began to recede. The woman snapped her cane down in front of her and folded both hands on the curve of the top. Her mouth twisted into a wide smirk, revealing a missing upper tooth and two teeth on the bottom with a gap between them.

"That's right, dear, in the fifties I was married to a hitman within the mob, don't think I don't know how you types are." Elba raised a hand to her chin and twisted her head sideways. A sickening crack came from the bones in her neck, sending chills down my spine. "I admit, I haven't met a self-righteous hitman…"

I strengthened my resolve and held my position, but kept a watchful gaze on Elba as she began to approach me. "You didn't think a feeble old woman pretending to be stricken with paranoia could get away with arson and an mafia style execution of her own daughter all by herself, did you?"

There was a split second amount of time to react before she rushed me with a speed greater than I expected for an old woman. "Now come here!" She swung her cane towards me, the blade inside the hollow crevice looked to be six to eight inches in length.

I jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the slash while making a mental note of the blade's length. In addition to the six inches, the cane itself was roughly the size of my wakizashi, so as long as I maintained that distance, I should be fine.

The woman is turning sideways and I watch as she swings her cane in a circular motion, arcing over her head, and crashing down towards me. I throw my sword up in the air and place my hand on the blunt edge as her cane slams against the blade.

The clash vibrates through my sword and jerks through my arms and torso, pushing me back, so I push forward with a grunt and swing my sword outwards. The tip of my blade manages to slice through Elba's shirt, and blood draws from her wrinkled skin.

Elba raised her hand to her chest, staring as the blood dripped over her index finger. "Oh lovely hit. It's barely a cut, dear." She raised her head and started to grin. "Let me get close, I'll spread some of your DNA on the floor."

"Don't count on it." She took another swing and I bent back, letting the cane slide over me. Thinking fast, I twisted around and kicked my leg up, striking her arm with the heel of my foot. She screamed and released the cane, letting it fly across the room.

Taking a deep breath, I rushed for the cane so she couldn't get to it. "Get back here!" She cried. Turning my head, I see the woman is hot on my heels. It is times like these that I am both thankful and surprised she doesn't have a gun on her.

"What? Are you afraid I'm going to tell everyone your crime?"

"Don't be silly child, you will do no such thing." As she reaches for her cane, I grab it in my left hand and leap backwards from the woman. She swings her arm in the air, letting out a frenzied shout. "Give that back here."

"Why? You sure as hell don't need it to walk. Much less anything else." She was hardly disabled as far as I could tell, but she was too fast and too strong. I can't have my blood spilling out, so I have to ensure she can't do anything to me.

Elba's shoulders and chest seemed to rise as she puffed her cheeks out. I braced myself for an attack, pushing my right foot back and crouching as the woman's nostrils began to flare.

She swept her arms down, bending them at the elbows and flexing her fingers like claws. Then with a mighty yell, she began her charge towards me. Leaping to the right, I can feel my blood pumping faster than ever through my veins. The woman slams into the wall beside me, but bounces off like blubber and continues to rush with her arms extended.

"Get the hell away from me!" Panic swells in my chest and a bubbling sensation grows in my gut as I swing the sword in an upwards arc. A flash of red spurts into the air with my blade, and for a moment I think I've won.

Standing before me, breathing heavily and dripping with blood from the center of her chest and up towards her neck is Elba, looking like I've just slaughtered her favorite pet. The embers of the fireplace reflect in her eyes, and her lips spread apart to reveal her tightly ground teeth.

"I'll kill you," she says with a low and menacing tone. "I'll kill you, and I'll kill everyone you've ever cared for." Now I was no longer the assassin, I was the one in danger and I was the one being threatened, though I still had the weapon. She raised her hand, extending her index finger. "If you don't think I'm serious, just you wait. I'll find the thing you hold most dear and I'll tear them apart."

My heart was pounding in my chest and my hand was trembling as I could feel the venom in the woman's eyes piercing my very soul. "What? Do you have a sibling? Brother, sister, maybe? Mommy, daddy?" My blood ran cold as the woman's mouth twisted into a menacing smile. "I'll find them, I'll fuck them with my cane." My body flinches and a vicious tremble shot through me as the woman ripped out a mocking laugh. "That got you. You don't like that do you."

I swallow the lump in my throat and start to raise my blade as she steps towards me. "That's right, I'll fuck them all, and then I'll tear them apart. Then when I'm done, I'll watch them burn alive like I watched my son in law and his two boys."

I feel my nostrils and my face twitching as rage and horror burn in my heart. The cane falls from my left hand and no sooner than that does the woman pick it up. "Pity you won't be alive to see them die, or maybe I'll lock you up in my spare guest room and let you watch." The woman rolled her head to the right and her grey eyebrows came crashing down. "Are there any girls in your family? Any young, tender ones? Maybe I'll force my grandson to have his way with them while you watch. Wouldn't that be-"

Almost on reflex, I plunge my sword into her mouth. Her body crashes against the wall and blood gushes around the sword, dribbling down her chin and body. "Shut _up_."The words seethe through the slits in my teeth and I watch as the light fades from her eyes. "You, nor your grandson will ever touch them."

My grip loosens from the handle as tears well up in my eyes. Exhaustion crashes through me and I stagger back, staring as the woman remains frozen in place, held up by the wakizashi blade thrusting through her skull and into the wall. I can't help but to let out my anguished cry as collapse to the ground.

It's over, but while I have avenged the Harris family, her grandson may never know the truth. He will hate me, but I do not care. Even still, I feel no relief, only horror at what could have been had this woman lived or defeated me.

I'm not sure how long I've been laying on that floor with the psychopath's dead eyes watching me, but once I've managed to recover, I give a call to the caller. "It's done," I say with a trembling voice, "The devil is dead."

"Devil?" The caller asks me. "Why 'devil', how hard could one old woman be?" I stop to catch my breath and look up at the woman. For a second it looks like her eyes have moved, and I thought I saw her hand twitch, but it may have just been a figment of my imagination.

"She was a horror, but she's dead. I'd rather just leave now than stick in this hell house any longer."

"Are you okay?"

"I will be fine." I grab the sword from Elba's head and flinch as her body crashes into the ground. "But I am getting the hell out of here."

* * *

So I wanted you to see there are monsters at every corner in the world and it looks like our assassin has just found one. What are your thoughts? This also counts as tomorrow's update, I've got some external stuff to work on.


	9. Unsung Victims

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 9 (Unsung Victims)

As Andre grieved the loss of his grandmother, having been the first person on the scene, Trina aided her father and Gary in investigating the crime scene. The first thing she saw when entering was the frightful image of Elba, collapsed into a seated position on the ground.

Her mouth was wide open and blood overflowed from her mouth. As she moved closer, Trina began to feel a bout of overwhelming nausea, but pushed it off as her father drew close. "Is this another one of our killer's victims?" He inquired. "The head isn't severed and I see no slit in the chest."

It was true, there was a cross cut into Elba's torso, but that was it. Judging also by the victim's head, there was an exit wound in the back. She glanced at the wall and started to cringe when she saw a hole and blood circled around it. "Hey Dad, there's a hole in the wall. Does it look like a bullet hole?"

He approached carefully, squinting his eyes. "Let me see…" David ran his thumb across it and shook his head. "No. It looks more like something shot into it though, but not a bullet."

"Dave!" Gary was holding up the woman's walking cane and pointing to the bottom. There was a six inch blade shooting out. "Looks like one of those old mobster weapons, doesn't it?" He chuckled once. "Could have been a mob hit, if I didn't know any better."

Trina pat her hands on her waist and shook her head. "I think Andre mentioned something about that, but I might be wrong."

They began searching the house for anything else that would indicate some sign towards what took place. Trina made her way to the master bedroom, her hand weighed on her stomach as the nausea swirled with more violence. She scrambled through whatever she could to find clues, anything to indicate an enemy the woman had or something to use as a clue.

What she found after some amount of searching was a diary stuffed in a shoe box on a high shelf within Elba's closet. She was stricken with a bout of curiosity and began thumbing through the diary until she found something of interest.

On a date late in the '90s, Elba had written an entry regarding a murder that took place within the family. Trina's eyes began to enlarge as she read over the words with trembling hands. "D-Dad," she stuttered at first. Her wavering voice increased in volume as she jumped from Elba's bed. "Dad, hurry!"

Her father came rushing in as if she were in some sort of danger, his eyes were wide and his chest heaved out. "What is it?" She offered up the diary and he sat down to read. His hand cupped over his mouth and his eyebrows began to slide upwards. "My god…"

Gary stepped into the doorway and David whispered. "It's a confession." He lowered the book into his lap and the color drained from his skin. "She massacred her daughter's family just so she could take her grandson." He slipped his trembling fingers through his hair, gazing in bewilderment at the book. "This is stunning, there's entry after entry about the murder-she's _proud_ of it."

Trina sauntered over to the door and leaned against the frame. "Doesn't change the fact that she was murdered herself right here."

"You're right, it doesn't, but this does help close the books on a very old case." He closed the book and handed it to Gary to put in an evidence bag. "Though I doubt it will be of any comfort to Andre."

"Probably not, considering his entire family's gone."

"You're right, poor kid. Unfortunately, I still have to inform him…" A tedious but necessary task no doubt. Trina would prefer leaving it alone at this point, but she knew the way the police had to work, and informing family would be better now than later.

"He has his friends, they're all the family he'll need right now I think."

David's hand slid down his face and dropped into his lap as a heavy sigh rolled away from him. "All this death. I can't even begin to fathom how you, Tori and all your friends are faring." He rose to his feet. "I never liked any of them all that much, but all this? This is what I signed up for becoming a detective. You wouldn't believe the shit I've seen in my life."

"It can be hard." She put her hand to her father's shoulder, smiling sadly he looked into her eyes. "I guess I wouldn't know exactly how it is, but I get it." His lips smacked and his shoulders fell after several seconds of silence.

"Come with us. You're about to see the other, unfortunate task we have as homicide detectives…" She furrowed her brow and her heart grew tight with concern. "Not only do we have to inform Andre that while his grandmother may have been killed by our serial killer but we're not sure, we have to inform him that his grandmother is responsible for the death of his entire family." David walked out of the bedroom and stopped for a second. "By any chance, does he have any idea they've even been murdered?"

She was never around to hear Andre talk about his family, if ever he had. "I'm not sure. Even Tori might not know the answer to that, I doubt it's something he's talked much about."

They returned home where Andre was grieving with the others. Tori was holding her friend, patting his back gently and whispering that everything would be okay. Jade was beside them, her fists were clenched tight in her lap and her head was bowed as though to conceal her tears. Beck was at the table, ghastly pale and shaken.

Cat looked up from the recliner and started to push herself up. "How bad is it?" She asked as though she truly wanted to know. Trina kept her head bowed as her father walked forward, wringing his cap in his hands.

"If you would," he began, "I need to speak with Andre. You all are welcome to remain here, I have a feeling right now you're what he's going to need." Jade moved over and Tori stood up from the couch, walking alongside Tori.

"Is there something other than his grandmother over there?" She whispered. Trina nodded her reply and watched the shock grow on her sibling's face. "What else is over there?"

"A diary confessing to the murder of Andre's parents and two older brothers." Tori pulled her hands over her mouth. "It also looks a lot like Elba fought with her attacker, so Dad's got the crime lab looking for trace evidence from that person."

"Find anything?"

"No. Elba's diary showed us just how sick and twisted she was, though." As David sat beside Andre, placing his heavy paw on the boy's shoulder, all of time seemed to slow and quiet as if every person in the room were holding their breaths.

Trina folded her hands in front of her waist, leaning her head back as she watched the scene unfold. Her fingers curled around the bottom edge of her left hand and the corners of her mouth sank towards her chin.

As her father spoke, the muscles in Andre's body stiffened. His lips moved without sound and his misty, trembling eyes shook with horror. Andre's hands swept through the air and denial jumped through his body.

Glancing at the others, Trina watched Beck's head fall to the table as he locked his hands and fingers onto the back of his neck. The others moved little, too stunned and too shocked to react.

And threw his hands up, cradling his face within them. The silence ripped apart with a bloodcurdling scream.

Some hours later Trina walked with her sister among a row of tombstones. Some were ancient, cracked and with dates no longer legible while others shined as though they were metal.

"You don't seem to be reacting much," Tori said. The girl walked in front of her, her arms swept behind her back and her left wrist was held by her right hand. Trina's eyes peered towards the ground. "I understand. It's hard for me to react as well, to sympathize with their losses. They killed Jason, and they didn't even bother to offer the slightest condolence at his funeral, while we're here doing what they couldn't do."

"I suppose." They stopped before his gravestone. It was a simple dark stone with a shine that glinted in the sunlight. There was a light brush against her skin, leaving a trail of warmth along her waist and down her arms.

Her eyes closed and the warmth that spread across her body soothed her rigid muscles.

Her tears scarred her cheeks, cutting into them like razors, and each beat of her heart ached and twisted. "It's the unknown victims that get to me. The unnamed, unseen." She opened her eyes and folded her hand over her stomach. "Andre's entire family, razed in a single night by a very evil woman. He grew up, never knowing the truth, never knowing how his family died. To him, they were never there. Unseen, unheard of until now. Now, when his grandmother's murder brings them into light."

Tori knelt before Jason's grave, placing a white rose in the vase bolted into the baseplate. "Yeah…" She smiled and looked up to Trina. "I know. It gets to me too."

"More than that." She took a deep breath, inhaling as she visualized the tender moments she once shared with the man she loved. "I was going to have a baby." Tori's mouth opened and her eyes filled with a certain shock. Trina started to shake, recalling where she and Jason had been headed on that fateful day. "I…didn't want to bring it up with anyone, I'm still recovering. That's why I haven't reacted, why I'm still angry, still in pain."

Tori stood, and rather than ask why she said nothing, she wrapped her arms tight around Trina. She was caught off guard by the act, but responded the same, holding her sibling tight as they both mourned in silence.

"Do you blame them?" She heard Tori whisper. Her answer was gut-wrenching in her mind, and she refused to say though her sister already knew. "I do. Even more now that I know what you lost…"

"We were on the way to the doctor that day." Her voice trembled as she buried her face into the curve of Tori's neck and shoulder. "I was going to have a daughter. We were going to tell everybody after that appointment."

"I would have had a niece?" Her sister's body jerked and tensed in her arms. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt Tori's hold on her tighten.

Trina knew soon she would be with them wherever they were. For now, she wanted to at least be civil with Tori's friends, but it was hard to push aside the hatred and anger she felt over her loss.

Tori pulled away, sliding her hands down Trina's arms. "I notice you've been getting close to Dad again." The girl smiled faintly and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. "That's great."

"He said he was proud of me. I really don't know what there is to be proud of anymore, but it's something I've never gotten from him."

"It's something. That's for certain." They turned towards the grave, leaning against one another. Tori's forearms wrapped across her stomach and her eyes started to dim. "I…tried to get in touch with Ian again."

"Any luck?"

"No. I got his father. He's been sick lately." She could feel her sibling's body sulk, and the mournful stillness in the girl's voice was telling. This illness had to be the reason Ian hadn't talked to Tori, he hadn't been able to.

When she looked over to her sister, she could see fresh rivers of tears running down her face. "The last time we spoke, he said he wanted nothing to do with me, because of the things my friends said about him and how I didn't say anything to stop them. That was the last thing…"

Tori closed her eyes and scoffed. For a second, Trina thought she heard the word 'tumor' being uttered from Tori's lips. Her stomach began to knot up and there was nothing more she could think to say. There was nothing that was needed to be said, for the silence said it all.

"Oh."

* * *

Thoughts? Input?


	10. Shutting the Doors

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 10 (Shutting the Doors)

There were at least four more months until graduation, and thus far Hollywood Arts was not reaping its yearly benefit. Since opening their doors in the mid-2000s, they had great success rates with graduates in high numbers, outing the competing schools despite their unorthodox method of focusing mainly on the arts.

They had core curriculum in order to at least be accredited, but students didn't go to Hollywood Arts to learn math or science. Therefore the school was often seen as a loophole, or a way around most of those core courses, but funding from donors helped them to remain in business and the most basic of core classes helped them retain the minimum required standard for accreditation.

As for Trina, she loathed how the place seemed to cheat the system. Before her own graduation, she had taken advanced classes offered online from other high schools in the area, but attended Hollywood Arts due to their martial arts.

Tori likewise considered the school a corrupt alternative method to giving students the easy way into college, despite most colleges not feeling too agreeable with their standards. They still had to accept students with a high school diploma from Hollywood Arts, but those students were required to take certain elementary coursework in their first semester.

Tori mulled over this while sitting in Mr. Sikowitz's classroom. The room seemed rather empty now, with half the class either dropping out or simply too afraid to attend.

Sikowitz stood in front of those that remained, leaning back against his desk and grasping the edges firmly with his fingers. "I am glad for those of you brave enough to continue attending class," he marveled. His eyes were shadowed by his low, bushy eyebrows. "Even those of you not afraid of failing my course."

"Give us a break," Robbie insisted, "We're trying. We're going through hell right now, too. There's a killer out there, Jade's father's dead and Andre's grandmother was just murdered-"

"I guarantee that killer will be caught too." Sikowitz leaned forward, his dark eyes glistened with hate as venom seeped from his teeth. "You lot probably will never be held responsible for the shit you've done."

"We caused a car accident, okay, but you don't have to hate us for it."

Sikowitz threw back his head with a laugh and raised his hand, flexing his fingers in the air. "If _only_ that were the only thing I've seen from you." Robbie flinched as the teacher approached him, growling low under his breath. "I've seen some pretty messed up things from you that you've all gotten away with." His eyes darted from Robbie to Jade, and his tone became husky and dark. "Whether it's medically sabotaging your fellow performer to steal her part, or dropping someone from the rafters, thinking it's _funny_."

"We didn't get away with that…"

"No? Because Lane said every one of you spun stories and pointed at someone else." Sikowitz crossed his arms, shaking his head disapprovingly. "All you lot do is spin stories and hope someone else takes the fall. I'll laugh when karma finally catches up with you."

"That is a very hateful thing to say."

"Right now, I don't feel much else." He shrugged simply and returned to the desk. It was interesting, and somewhat entertaining how vocal he was with the blatant dislike he felt towards the group now. Tori figured it would pass eventually, and she hoped that it would soon.

"Did you guys know my sister was pregnant?"

"What?!" Jade cried out first and a wave of horror passed over the group. Sikowitz turned merely and narrowed his eyes as Tori looked up at him with a blank and stoic expression.

"She was pregnant with a baby girl." Sikowitz moved with an eerie calm behind his chair. His right hand folded over the top, denting into the leather. Tori watched his nostrils spread open and his lips parted half an inch. "When the accident happened, she lost the baby."

The hush that fell over the room hung in place like a dark and sinister could. Sikowitz was frozen in place, staring into Tori's eyes with a smoldering glare while each of her friends held their breath.

The other students buried their noses in their textbooks and journals, clearly doing whatever they could to ignore the situation. Tori's lips spread up innocently and she turned her head to the side. "I'm sorry," she said finally, "That wasn't the appropriate time to bring that up."

"I'm going to be sick," Cat muttered. The girl brought her hands to her heads as the others looked to her. "I hate you. I hate all of you. I can't believe I ever called any of you my friends. Nothing but bullies, pricks, assholes."

Sikowitz emitted a gruff, guttural noise before walking with a slow step towards the door. "If you students will excuse me." He stepped out, slamming the door behind him. All those in the room flinched and watched the door closely, half expecting him to return.

Beck turned fully towards Trina, beads of sweat flicked from around his eyebrows. "Tori, are you fucking with us?" She glanced at him. Her hands slid in across her thigh and she looked with earnest at him. "Trina was pregnant? Seriously?"

She nodded solemnly, watching as a rush of air left his body and he slumped into the chair. "She was. Your girlfriend's stupid prank killed Jason and my sister's baby." Tori breathed in sharp and shook her head at the group. "Then again, I'm thinking out loud. Trina just told me, I don't think she would have wanted me to tell you guys, so I honestly shouldn't have said anything."

"Jesus Tori, I…" Beck's head bowed and he looked to Jade, but the girl had no answers while the others had little to say. "This is all just one big mess." Though it was hardly appropriate to describe such a situation as a mess, there wasn't any other way to describe it besides tragic, and she knew it.

"Don't worry about it." She moved from her chair and looked up to the speaker on the wall as a static noise played over it, signaling that Mrs. Belknap was likely going to speak soon. "Just accept that my sister's fiancé is dead, I've lost a niece that I'll never get a chance to meet, and all because you just wanted to cement to my sister that she was worthless." She glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. "Well job well done, you've gotten what you wanted. I'm glad you feel proud of yourselves now."

As predicted, the assistant principal spoke out, calling for another last minute assembly. Tori was the first to leave the room, walking fast to make her way to the large auditorium.

Mrs. Belknap was up at the podium, watching as the students filed in. Tori noted the forlorn expression on the woman's face, and upon closer inspection she could see flecks of tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Behind the woman were a line of men and women, one of which was an old familiar face. He was tall and dressed in a brown suit, his arms were locked behind his back and his hair was trimmed into a neat and professional cut.

This man was Richard Brighton, the principal of Sherwood High. _"What's he doing here?"_ She took a seat in the third row and studied the man carefully. He was unflinching and had a warm, subtle smile just like the rest of the principals and administrators standing on the stage.

"Students." Mrs. Belknap pushed her hands along the podium and a long exhale was drawn from her lips. "As I am sure some of you are aware, two of our biggest donors have recently been murdered by the Shadow Slayer. Along with them we mourn the loss of our own Mr. Lane Alexander and Principal John Eikner."

Tori bowed her head, staring down at her hands as she tapped the tips of her fingers together. She wasn't entirely heartbroken over the losses, at least not since she didn't know them personally, but she had been curious how these deaths may affect the school.

Now it seemed the answer might present itself. With Los Angeles's biggest high schools here at Hollywood Arts, it could only mean one thing in her mind; Hollywood Arts was shutting down. The Shadow Slayer had won.

Tori balled her hands into fists and clenched her teeth as a grievous sensation pulsed through her.

"Hollywood Arts began as a wonderful school dedicated to performance art, we wanted students to grow in talent and discover the joys and passion of the stage." The woman's tears framed her lips, and her eyes twinkled in the light. "For many years that is what we achieved, that is the goal that we've accomplished. It was no easy task, we've relied upon donations to keep us afloat, and we have come a long way. It's been an incredible journey, and one which I hope many of you cherish for as long as I will."

The woman wiped her nose with a tissue, sniffing into it. "It is our belief now that our students, our faculty and staff may very well be in danger, and we have never wanted the community to feel like their lives are being put at risk should they attend or work at this school." She gasped aloud and closed her eyes. "So it is with great sadness that I announce, until further notice, our doors will be closed to the public."

A great clamor erupted amongst the students present but Tori remained silent, staring down at her hands as veins began to bulge from the surface. "What will we do?" Someone asked. Another inquired about graduation while some questioned if the school would ever open again.

Mrs. Belknap raised and waved her hands forward in the air. "I will answer all your questions, but one at a time please." The clamor began to settle and the woman carefully gripped the edges of her podium. "As for continuing your education, any one of these ladies and gentlemen standing behind me are ready to discuss and help you enroll in their schools for the remainder of the year. That includes graduating seniors…"

 _"Good to know,"_ Tori thought. She would love to go back to Sherwood to finish out the remainder of her term, if they would have her, but it wasn't as though she'd be able to talk to her old friends.

Behind her, she could already hear her friends talking amongst themselves about going to the same school as one another. Cat was saying nothing at all, and Andre was tapping Tori on the shoulder, asking what school she was thinking of finishing at.

As if he didn't know.

"She'd probably go to Sherwood," she heard Robbie say with a chuckle. Her eyebrow rose as the others murmured their agreements. Among those murmurs was a statement that caught her attention and held it, rendering all else as background.

 _"Sherwood's a school for nerds and geeks, she wouldn't want to go back there."_

Her lips pressed tightly together and her hands viciously tugged at the bottom of her shirt. A tear started to appear the harder she pulled. Her teeth ground together and a new ember burned in her eyes.

Before she could respond to them, Mrs. Belknap shushed all students once again and spoke over the clamor. "Hollywood Arts will remain closed until further notice. Once the Shadow Slayer has been arrested, we will begin a transformation process-looking for employees and rehashing a new audition plan. It is not yet known when we will reopen, but you have the next three weeks to enroll in the many high schools here in our district. Take advantage of that opportunity now. Thank you and…I wish you all the best of luck…"

The other principals introduced themselves, each speaking a little about their schools before passing the microphone. By the time the assembly was over, Tori remained in her seat, listening to her fellow students discuss the matter. "This is what the killer wanted? To close down Hollywood Arts?"

"Does this mean the killings will stop?

"I hope so."

Tori raised her head, pulling her eyes away from her hands while staring up at the principal of Sherwood. "I hope so too," she said to no one at all, "Let it all be over now."

* * *

So Hollywood Arts has closed it's door for the safety of the community, but what are your thoughts? Was this the true plan of the Assassin and Caller, or was it a part of the plan? Do you think it was a distraction? Also, do you think the Caller is really the one in charge? A lot of tension in this chapter, so there's much to talk about. Let me know w


	11. Psychopathy

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: So far we've seen the "Rational" part of the duo, but here today, let us see the other half.

* * *

Chapter 11 (Psychopathy)

Walking the halls, everything looks red to me, and the ringing in my ear sounds like an alarm. It should be, with everyone on high alert. Call me psychopath, call me unjust. Call me what you will. Many will think I am insane, and maybe they are right. Maybe I am right.

I love the cool breeze in the air and the crisp feel of it on my skin, it reminds me that I am alive. "Oh Lane…" My fingers slide gently across the grey tombstone of Hollywood Art's guidance counselor. "You always did like to listen to everybody's problems, it's so hard sitting here without seeing you constantly obsessing over your hand lotion."

It doesn't feel the same talking to his grave rather than the man himself, but it's good enough and with nobody around, I feel safe and secure here amid the cemetery and ghosts.

I call the shots for the one that lives in the shadows, although we are a team. The assassin has done excellent work. It is only unfortunate that they don't wish for my presence when performing the hit, but I understand and am willing to agree to the arrangements made.

"You know, Laney, It isn't as though I wouldn't be able to cope with death. I'm no stranger to it. Why, I remember when I was eight or nine years old and I trapped this cute little squirrel in a box out behind our house." My hands clench and shake beside my face as a joyous squeal rushes from my lips. "It had this cute and fuzzy tail, and gorgeous chestnut brown fur."

I named the squirrel 'Skippy' as at that time one of my favorite cartoons involved the squirrels off Animaniacs.

I roll my head to the right and rock backwards as the theme plays in my head. I hum along, recalling each word of that wonderful cartoon as it was only yesterday that I saw it.

"You know Lane, there was an episode of that Slappy and Skippy cartoon, they were watching the Bambi movie. Poor little tyke cried over his mother's death. I'm not sure if I would cry." Thoughts race through my mind as they always do, and I can't seem to think of just the right thing to discuss. "What was I talking about?"

Then I remember, I had nearly forgotten about the little squirrel in my backyard. "Oh right. That adorable little squirrel I named Skippy." I flash a grin like the Chesire cat and slowly wring my hands together as a smoky scent swells in my nostrils. "Such a sweet little pet, though my family calls squirrels rodents."

That tail was so fuzzy and dark, and it reminded me of the end of a match. My mother smoked at the time and she'd left a set of her matches on the back porch, so curiosity struck me and I wanted to see how the adorable little animal would react.

"I lit a match, Lane. I lit a match and dropped it onto the squirrel's tail." I laugh fondly at the memory, I can recall hearing the squirrel's tiny shrieking noise filling the air as it runs in circles around the box I've trapped it in.

"Fire. Fire is beautiful, Lane. I love fire. Ever since then. You know, there's a girl I know, her hair is red like fire. She's sweet and adorable like that little squirrel." But the squirrel died. Even after my father came rushing out with a bucket of water-he always did like to spoil my fun.

While that creature lay soaking wet and with a burned and frayed tail, I sat there watching and waiting. The wheezes it made sounded like somebody panting during a workout at the gym, and its chest was moving in and out like a rubber band.

"I think the assassin will give that girl a merciful death." I wish it could be me, embracing the sweet release of death, but the anger and hatred I feel prevents it. I garner more joy out of watching other suffer, for I feel nothing when I suffer.

I have hurt myself in the past, done many things to see if I could feel the pain. I have touched fire to my skin, I've put a knife to my arm and leg, but nothing happened.

I bled, and I watched the blood. I examined it. Blood truly is thicker than water, and there's a certain stickiness to it. The taste is sweet, almost like candy or honeyed wine. It is certainly not the strangest thing I've tasted, and I'd rather not try it again since I am no cannibal.

I've tried flesh once, but only once. It was nauseating. When I was twelve, I went hiking and came across a farm. There was a chicken outside the fence, and curious as I was, I killed it. I then cooked it just to see if I could.

"Oh Lane." I smile while leaning forward. The grave feels smooth beneath my fingertips, but the letters are sharp and grainy. "You won't tell all my secrets, will you, Lane? Counselors are sworn to confidentiality laws, you couldn't tell my secrets."

No, he can't tell my secrets, he's dead. Soon all my enemies will be dead, and everyone that I hate will be dead. By extension, I am the blade the assassin wields, though they are much calmer and more refined than I am.

"I must go now Lane, but we'll talk again I'm sure." I stand slowly and lift my tanned backpack from the ground. As I leave the cemetery, I spot something that catches my eye across from the street.

It is a puppet, sitting outside of a small convenience store. It has dark curly hair that looks coarse and wiry, a wide smile and big blue eyes. I see who I assume to be its owner, based upon similar appearances, just inside the shop. With a grin, I make my approach, peering at the wooden puppet in the eyes.

"Oh hollow thing." I lift it from the ground with a laugh and then make my way around the back of the store. Wood burns wonderfully, and I can only imagine how beautiful the smoldering embers will look when I set this doll aflame. "How sweet you are. Talk to me, scream to me, tell me how much you hurt. I want to know what pain feels like."

As the puppet falls from my hands and onto the ground near my feet, it escapes me just when it was I lost all sense of feeling. These days I feel like nothing more than this little puppet: soulless and heartless, without the proper sensory receptors or nerve endings that would allow me to feel such pain and suffering.

The puppet has scars from a prior event, leading me to feel he has been broken before. "I'll put you out of your misery," I say while tearing a matchbook from the inside pocket of my jacket.

As I gaze down, I notice an engraving on the now revealed section of this thing's belly. It reads _To Robbie, from you loving older brother, Rex._ "Aw, how sweet." My foot slides the mouth of the puppet open and I strike the match as quick as I can, and my heart swells when I see the fire burning bright on the tip of the stick.

It reminds me of the squirrel.

The assassin can't stand the fire, so we agreed never to use arson, but this isn't arson. At least it can't be a crime if the victim is only a wooden object with no life. Dropping the match, I can't help but giggle as it falls perfectly into the puppet's mouth.

Soon, smoke begins rising and I continue to laugh. "I can't believe you've taken up smoking, don't you know smoking's bad for your health?" Much to my surprise, the fire begins to spread quickly and it engulfs the puppet's head with a matter of seconds.

I have to take a step back as I can feel my skin drying up this close to the heat, and I can't stand having dry skin.

I hear the boy around the corner calling out for Rex, and my heartbeat quickens then sinks. As much as I want to stick around and watch the puppet turn to ash, I can't be caught and found out now.

He calls out again, seemingly aware of the crackling sounds coming from where we are. "See you later, Rex." I hurry off, as though I was never there, and look back for one final fleeting glimpse.

It's then that I see the boy running around the building at full speed, screaming at the top of his lungs, and this fills my heart with pleasure. "So that's pain and suffering…"

An hour later I enter the home of Detective Vega. I've been stalking him, watching him and his family, just to see how close he was getting to solving the murders. His oldest daughter is helping, but even with their combined efforts, they don't appear to be getting any closer to discovering the truth.

The lady of the house is asleep on the couch, and beside her is a full bottle of pain killers, open and with pills scattered on the table. She is covered in sweat, and has a peculiar and discolored crust around her lips.

As I approach her my heart fills with dread, anger and hate. I touch the woman's shoulder, but garner no reaction. "You're worthless," I whisper to her, "You're a lying, cheating, worthless whore. You deserve to die."

A full bottle of whiskey sits on the floor, with her two fingers straddling the neck. I can feel a lightbulb go off in my head, and I grab both the whiskey and the pills.

I flip the woman onto her back and empty the contents of the pills into her mouth. "Drink up," I say while raising the whiskey in the air. The woman's eyes shoot open and gasps for air, only to inhale a few of the pills.

She grabs her throat and begins to gasp, but I hear nothing intelligible coming from her. "Are you choking? Maybe you need a drink, a lot of drink." I thrust the tip and neck of the bottle into her mouth and watch as the liquid bubbles and jumps while draining.

Some whiskey splashes out and the woman turns her head in an attempt to get away, so I grab her face and hold her head in place. Soon her body goes limp and her head drops to the side.

I climb off and watch, waiting as I hear the sound of faint wheezing coming from the back of her throat. My eyes remain dry and my heart unmoved as I wait for this woman to die.

"It won't be much longer now." Her eyes cloud over and her fingers curl into her palms. "I enjoy watching you die, like the squirrel. Do you remember Skippy the Squirrel?" I tilt my head, studying the woman's body with a deepening frown. "Skippy cried a lot, he felt pain and sympathized with sorrow, but I can't feel. I don't know why, but I can't feel anymore. I lack the empathy, I lack the care and the concern."

My reality is dysfunctional, and I have separated The cyself from this world in a spiritual and emotional sense. The assassin was never going to kill this woman, they didn't have the ability or the guts to, though they despised her as much as I.

Nurture versus nature, I suppose. The assassin would rather nurture and care for someone weak and pathetic, so they would not kill those that could not defend themselves like this _wench_ here.

For me, however, it is a matter of nature. It is within my nature to destroy those that I cannot tolerate, those that I hate. If they are weaker than I am, then that is simply not my fault, it is their fault for being weak.

It is this woman's fault for rendering herself unable and useless, and the strong must press on to survive by culling the weak. Not sympathizing with them, or caring about them, or treating them like they don't deserve to die simply because they cannot defend themselves.

0No, they all deserve to die, and die they shall.

Just like the squirrel…

* * *

So what do you think about the Caller? What are your thoughts seeing this chapter? The caller may be right, the assassin would never have killed Mrs. Vega. Meet the true psychopath of the story.


	12. Investigator's Turmoil

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 12 (Investigator's Turmoil)

Trina's internship desk was cluttered with paperwork that some of the detectives had her helping with. The computer beside her was turned onto the desktop which bore an image of a badge with _L.A.P.D._ across the middle in blue.

In front of her was her father, standing with his back turned to her. His hand rested upon his chin, and his body was still as he studied a large board in front of him. Atop the board were photographs of each victim, from Uncle Benito to Andre's grandmother.

"The commonality, they've each been killed with a blade," David said. Trina raised her head from the papers and nodded, having come to this conclusion herself already. "They've been murdered in the night, each within the comfort of their own home."

"Benny wasn't murdered in his home." She poked a pen at the photograph of Benny. Her father's index finger slid along his left jawline and his had nodded gently. "His apartment was nearby, though. Maybe he ran from his attacker?"

"Possibly."

"Do we focus on him, Dad? I mean, what if he holds the key?" After all, he was the one victim not associated with Hollywood Arts. His death looked the most personal as well. "Could he even truly be a victim of the Shadow?"

"Has to be." He lowered his hands behind his back and raised his head and shoulders. "The coroner's report suggests that like the other victims, he was killed with what looks to be a long blade. A sword possibly. He also has a strike through the chest and heart."

"What about Elba? She was cut across and down the torso, then stabbed in the mouth. Can we attribute her to the Shadow?"

"I believe so." His head rolled to the right and he began to hum. "There's something to the way they were murdered. I can see it, but I can't pinpoint it." Trina stood and made her way over, looking at the crime scene image of Henry West.

His ex-wife had been cleared as a suspect, since doctors at the hospital confirmed she'd been undergoing corrective surgery on her hip that day and had been kept on overnight observation due to a reaction she had to the anesthesia.

"What about Henry. He has the least wounds. A slash on his arm, and a stab through his chest." The slash on his arm looked like had been reaching for something, perhaps a weapon or a phone. "Let's think about who these people were too, if that'll help. Henry West is a divorced husband that took custody of his daughter. He's been abused most of his life by his wife, then there's his daughter."

"Jade is a rebellious teenager, and an angry one at that." David walked towards the board and as he focused on the photograph like it was the only one there, his eyes began to narrow. "The way his body's positioned makes me think the killer was showing him mercy. If he was truly abused and already in enough pain as it were, then would the killer have shown _mercy?"_

Trina shrugged, then pointed to Elba. "Then we have Elba's death scene. It looked like she fought with her attacker, you said. She's stabbed through the mouth, and the divot in the wall suggests she was standing at the time."

"Merciless kill." He scratched his chin and turned sideways. "What if the Shadow Slayer knew about her history?" Trina raised her eyebrows and smiled as David paced to the left. "What if Elba's murder was more about vigilantism?"

"It could suggest that the way our victims are dying is based on how that person lived their life."

David poked Lane's photograph with his finger and started to hum. "Lane was having an affair with his wife. He was beheaded. Then there's Principal Eikner, who doesn't appear to have anything 'bad' besides greed and a love of wealth."

"I was looking at some files on our victims, and there is something." Principal Eikner didn't have as clean of a slate as everyone thought, and David wasn't far off on the greed aspect. "I read somewhere that while in college, he was arrested for stealing fifty dollars from his roommate. Then in his late twenties he was suspected of robbing a convenience store. He has a pattern of greed."

David started to laugh and he hurried to the board with a sharpie marker, writing down the attributes. "Eikner, guilty of robbery and a love of money. Also the principal of Hollywood Arts." As he wrote, his left index finger stroked his chin. "Lane Alexander, counselor for Hollywood Arts-guilty of cheating on his wife."

She rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. "With a news reporter no less." David clicked his tongue and moved onto the next.

"Henry West, abused family man that donated large sum of money to Hollywood Arts. The killer showed him mercy. Then there's Elba, a woman that murdered her entire family. She was also a donor to Hollywood Arts. Possibly fought with the Shadow."

"That might also explain why she hasn't been beheaded like Eikner and Lane." He jerked his head back and looked at her like a deer caught in headlights. "What if the Shadow was caught off guard? What if they didn't expect her to fight back? What if the killer was exhausted by the end."

David walked by her, tapping the marker in the air. "And didn't follow through with the decapitation." He stopped on a dime and chuckled. "I love it. It makes sense. If the killer was taken by surprised and exhausted, they may have wanted to rush out."

As she glanced at the row or victims, her heart began to sink. She knew this trend was a connection, and it meant only one thing. Just as David turned his head, she could see in his eyes he was speculating the same. "Your uncle. Uncle Benito." She dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my brother may have been involved in, I can't say he's committed any crimes or done anything with great immorality."

Trina opened her eyes and took a deep breath while looking at another detective's desk nearby. Gary had been sitting with his hands behind his head, listening to their speculation with sincere silence.

Gary met her eyes and his eyebrows gently rose. "There may be something," he admitted with soft undertones. David's brow furrowed and Trina's muscles began to tighten. "I was asked to keep quiet about it."

"You're a detective, you know as well as I do that you shouldn't withhold _anything_ that could help a case."

"It was to protect you. Your brother may not be as moral or clean as you believe." David turned fully towards Gary, his eyes sharpened as he walked slowly. Trina gave the officer a nod and Gary lowered his hands, breathing in slowly. "On that board you have a murderer, you have a robber and an adulterer, but you also have an accused rapist…"

"Don't screw with me, Gary."

"He has the most mutilated bodies of all the victims, David." Gary pointed to Benny's photo, and the color in David's body began draining from him. "Benito Vega is an accused child molester"

"That's impossible." David's shout echoed into the air and he bellowed with a disbelieving scoff. "My brother?" Trina's stomach tightened and winkles formed between her brow as she struggled against the bile produced from the memories of her uncle. "I would have known, I would have heard something. He's never been picked up for anything like that."

"Maybe because nobody's reported it, but think about it Dave." David's fists began shaking and his lips spread apart, showing off his grinding teeth. "Forget he's your brother, if only for a minute, and think about all the times you've interacted with him." It could be that David missed something over the years, but Gary was right, the man was too smart not to have felt something was off. "You're a dad, you're a cop. So, you can't tell me there wasn't a single time you didn't feel _something_. Hell, even your wife knows something, she came in here declaring Benny deserved it-why haven't we considered her as a suspect?"

"You leave my family out of this." He swept his hand up, pointing at Gary while seething with rage. "No one in my family could be capable of this." Gary started to sulk and sigh. "But I see your point…and I agree." Trina perked up, genuinely shocked by her father's answer.

The man turned around and approached the board, and Trina could hear a growl just under his breath. "There have been times in the past that I've wondered, but I never wanted to think of my brother in that way."

"Think like a cop, Dave. I _know_ you, you've told me in the past that you made the decision to stop going around Benny. You had your reasons."

"He disturbed me a couple times." David crossed his arms and closed his eyes. His broad shoulders flattened and his chin dipped momentarily. "It was always small things. Pictures of children on his computer desktop, magazines he would shove aside whenever someone entered the room. There were even those times he would act creepy around my daughters, and when that started happening, I just couldn't leave them around him without my being present."

"Never felt comfortable with him. So is it so hard to believe that he might have been accused of something?"

David rolled his head to the right, then raised his eyes towards the ceiling. His shoulders took a sharp decline and a large breath of air fell from his lips. "Shit." He marked the attribute down beneath his brother's photograph and capped the marker. "If that's the case, it might be good to know any victims he may have had…hell, if you follow profiling, sexual abuse tends to be a factor in the past of many serial killers."

Trina looked beyond the two officers, hearing the sound of a door latch opening. Across the room, three investigators made their way. "Mr. Vega?" David towards them just as they stopped a few feet away. "You and your daughter may want to sit down, sir." The one speaking appeared to be in charge.

This was a man from a different division of the police force. They didn't investigate homicides, but there were times when they might be called to the scene of one. "Is everything okay?" He obliged and moved to his desk. Trina did the same, folding her hands over her lap. The men shook their heads, and the one in charge pulled a stool up to sit near David.

"David your wife has been taking Cymbalta and Xanax for depression and anxiety. Is that correct?" Trina's eyes grew slowly and a sudden jolt of pain struck her heart as David nodded. "Does your wife drink as well?"

"She's begun to recently, yes." David's right brow rose and he turned his head, gazing at the investigator sideways. "Has something happened to Holly?" He gripped the arms of his chair and the knuckles on his fingers grew white as bone. "What's happened to my wife?"

"I'm sorry, David. We got called in on a probable suicide."

Trina's body froze as the oxygen in the room was swept away, her hand shot up to her throat and she opened her mouth as her lungs began to shrivel. On her desk, her phone lit up, and within was a text message from Tori letting her know the same thing the investigator was here to say.

The disbelief silenced her ability to scream, and the desire to do so pierced her, leaving a crater in her chest where her heart was meant to be. David lashed out in anger, slamming his fist down onto his desk.

If it was a true suicide, then at the very least the Shadow wasn't targeting David just yet, but it was a sign the nightmare was only going to get worse.

* * *

What thoughts do you have here? David finally learns what kind of a person his brother was-do you think there could be any victims of his that would turn to this? Rage and hatred seem to be the mind of the Caller, while we know vengeance and justice is in the mind of the assassin. There would be a lot of rage and hatred in a victim of Benito's abuse, but would there be any of his victims that could harbor hatred for Hollywood Arts or the people that have been targeted thus far? Think about these connections, are there any you can make?


	13. A Bleak View

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Here is a rare perspective, one we may only see twice. It is neither the assassin or the caller, but it won't be hard for you to pick up. I want you to see the inner mind of this person.

* * *

Chapter 13 (A Bleak View)

The Coroner ruled it a suicide; she drank an entire bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey and downed a bottle of her anti-depression meds. I never knew it was that bad, I should have known. I should have known she was at the end of her rope.

As I stand here my tears wet my face as the umbrella fails to shield me from the downpour. My wife lies in a wooden coffin, dark oak, just beneath the small covered stand. She appears at peace for the first time in her life, and I can't help but to wonder if she is at peace wherever she is.

Heaven, hell, god and the devil himself. I've never been one to believe in any of it, and I've seen enough to know that if hell existed, earth was it.

In my gut I feel a pang of nausea, and a sense that something just isn't settling. It's hard to believe my wife took her life, though I was fully aware of how depressed she'd become over the years. If it was an attack from the madman I've been chasing, a warning, then it was a shitty one. The killer would have to know that I would do everything in my power to hunt them down.

My daughters stand on either side of me, and I see the tears well up in their eyes. Trina seems to be more affected, and both have been incredibly quiet over the last few days. I'm all they have now, and they are all I have. I love them more than life itself, and I would do anything to protect them.

My palms a covered in sweat and blood from clenching my hands too tight, my teeth are in a considerable amount of pain and it's a struggle for me to speak. Gary stands a few feet away beneath an umbrella as grey as the clouds in the sky, there's a long expression on his face, and his eyes bear a glint of guilt, shame, and grief.

All too well I knew of his affair with my wife, but the anger I held towards them for it had passed long ago when I decided to simply accept there was little I could do. I prayed for the longest time that it would end, and I could have my wife again, but my duties as a detective kept me away.

As for Gary himself, he told me he was going to end the affair. He's been just as busy as I have over this killer, maybe even more so. He was my best friend for several years, so he's been pushing hard ever since my brother's murder.

I don't think I could have the strength to do this without Gary, he's the only thing helping me to stay in control and remain sane through it all.

Retirement loomed above, and I was going to spend more time with my family. Would that have changed anything? Would Holly still be here if she knew? "Whatever happens," I whisper. My daughters raise their heads and their somber eyes strike a painful chord within me. "Know that I love you both, and I am-always have been-incredibly proud of you."

"We love you too, Daddy."

"When I stop this madman, I promise you, it'll be the three of us. This will be my final job, and then I will have all the time in the world for the two of you."

Somehow, I can feel the Shadow Slayer watching me, but from where I don't know. I know they're here, mocking me, laughing at the pain. Always a step ahead, always plotting and scheming. My family is no longer safe, whether or not they're responsible for Holly's death, they know I am no longer untouchable.

It's impossible not to think about the killer; my latest obsession. No matter how obsessively I pursue, I can feel them preparing to take another leap several feet in front of me, and I can't figure out how they do it.

Could it be the Shadow doesn't work alone? The thought is hard to believe, since it's rare for two serial killers to work together, but all the deaths so far have the feeling of being assassinations. If that's truly the case, then I must focus on why these people have been assassinated.

If Trina is correct regarding Elba's death, vigilantism is a good motive to consider and one that a hitman might be probable. Still, I can't figure this killer out.

Across from me I spot Tori's friends and hold back the urge to scowl at them. I know my girls aren't happy with them, and if I am frank, neither am I. There was a time when Tori became grossly sick from giving blood, Holly looked at the hospital tapes and detected one of those kids taking the blood bags away and the nurse drawing more blood continuously.

There was another issue in which the boys were lying to me about what they were doing to my oldest daughter. I regret the way I acted to her that night, always have, and I've always slapped myself for never throwing those three men out of the house for so much as glancing at my child-let alone putting their hands on her.

It didn't help that one of them was also responsible for cutting her harness. I ordered the police to investigate, but then Lane took matters into his own hands by trying an investigation of his own, which resulted in the prosecutor not wanting to try the case.

For the last several years this group has been more of a nuisance to me, bullying my little girls; so I understand why Trina feels the way she does when she tells me justice hasn't been done. I wish with all my heart that I could do more, but it is simply not possible.

Nothing I do will ever be enough, I fear.

I step out from beneath the umbrella, letting the rain soak into my clothes. "What are you doing here?" My glare falls onto the group and I can see them tense. Everyone these days have been on their case, so I know I shouldn't let my judgment and scorn pierce them, but I cannot hold back my anger that they would have the gall to show up at my wife's funeral. "You have no business being here."

"We're here supporting our friend," Beck replied. Of the three boys, it was this one I disliked most. I know of his attempt at kissing my youngest, and I know the debauchery with Trina was his plan. If there is truly a god above, may he keep me from striking this boy where he stands.

"You lot have never treated my family with respect, you should not be here."

"It's open to the public anyway." He has a point, but I can feel emotions clouding my judgment. "Besides, we're scared. A killer's out there, and this is the third person related to someone in our circle of friends that died."

"I don't-" My voice falters before I can tell this man how little I care for his concern. His words resonate in what little logic I have left, and curiosity seizes me. Though my wife's death wasn't a murder, I can feel in my gut that I'm missing something crucial, and Beck might have just delivered the missing link. Hell, Benny was related as well.

Jade's father was dead, Andre's grandmother perished. They were connected to Hollywood Arts, but at the same time, they're connected to my girls' friends. It's baseless speculation, and I certainly don't feel it's anything more than a coincidence, but I would have to keep a watch on this group.

They were capable of violent things, and they were capable of being dangerous. I can't put it past Jade for possibly turning to murder, but I don't think she would be responsible for the deaths of Eikner or Lane. As for Andre, he's strong enough, and I have seen before where relatives kill their relatives for a number of reason. If Elba's death was vigilantism, and he discovered she killed his entire family, there was a chance he could have been the one to kill her.

"Interesting." They tremble under my inquisitive gaze, like that of a nervous suspect. I see their eyes darting to one another and my glare holds them in place. It could be that I'm on the wrong track where they're concerned, but I wanted them to know I would be watching them. "I hope none of you are planning to leave town anytime soon."

"W-What?"

"You heard me." I cross my arms and feel a shot of opportunity strike me. Even if they weren't involved, they could provide me with a potential suspect. I'm not on the job, but that doesn't mean I can't ask if they've seen or heard anything. "Do you have any idea who might want to target you or your families?"

Their eyes grow as if I'd just said something completely out of the water. "Us?" My right hand raises and circles the air and they look amongst each other, muttering about the likelihood of them being targets.

"Jade's father has been murdered, Andre's grandmother has been murdered. I'm wondering if anybody could potentially be targeting any of you."

"You want a list?" Jade asked with a scoff. "It seems like everybody hates us these days." She snapped her fingers and for a moment I had a feeling I was on the right track. "Tori's mad at us, Trina despises us even more than she ever had."

"Sure, but I know my daughters wouldn't do anything to hurt you lot. They're good girls."

"Yeah, I doubt they have a violent bone in their body." I can see the wheels turning in her mind. Her brow starts to furrow and lines appear around the corners of her mouth. "However our teacher…Mr. Sikowitz? He's been getting really crazy, ever since that accident."

"Yeah man," Andre chimed in and raised his hand for attention. "He's been incredibly vocal about how much he hates us and how much he wishes we'd 'get what's coming'."

There was motive in that, and he had a connection to Hollywood Arts as well. "Could he have been angry at the school for any particular reason? Maybe he wanted them to shut their doors?"

"I don't know, it seems like he's been mad at everyone these days." Andre looked at Beck, who was tapping his chin and humming. Finally Beck raised his head up and nodded at me.

"I think when Jason died, he asked for time off, but Principal Eikner wouldn't give him any time off. They didn't consider Jason 'immediate family' because he was Sikowitz's nephew."

"There's something else," Robbie remarked. I saw his eyes drift towards Cat, and he made a slow swallowing noise. "Cat? You've been pretty upset with us too lately." Cat's jaw fell open and she raised her voice while looking ready to slap him on the spot.

"Are you saying _I_ would try to hurt someone to get back at you? You guys are the bullies, not me!"

"It's only speculation. Relax."

"Well don't go telling the guy investigating everything that I might be a murderer. How about that, Robbie?"

As I watch them bicker and discuss the matter, it occurs to me their grief and confusion is genuine. Their fear is, without a doubt, true. If the killer were amongst this group, they would have to be very good at acting, or at the very least have such little empathy that they could pull off pretend emotions.

So far Erwin Sikowitz is the best suspect I have, and I have this group to thank for it. He is the first to be named a suspect, so I'll have to investigate further.

For now, I want to get back to my daughters and see this funeral through. It's going to be hard to divide my time, but I need the streets to be safe, I need my daughters to be able to feel safe again.

They're the reason I have always worked as hard as I have throughout my career, because all I've ever wanted for them was to be able to walk the streets without fear of something happening to them.

Whatever move you make next, assassin, know I will be there. I will be ready, and I will hunt you down with every breath even if it kills me.

* * *

A somber day indeed that this is. David mentioning Gary keeping him sane, might be foreshadowing. What are your thoughts on the chapter? On David's thoughts and feelings? Do you think Sikowitz is a good place to start? Could one of the friends possibly have anything to do with the murders? If so, then who? Bearing that in mind, if either Jade or Andre were involved, that would mean they knew about their relative's death. Beck and Jade can't be the assassin, but could they possibly be the Caller? We know Robbie's not the caller, could he even be the assassin? Who do you think the assassin and caller are at this point?


	14. Suspects to Consider

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 14 (Suspects to Consider)

"So if we search your house, we won't find any long blades will we?" Trina watched her father lean in close across from the questioning table, he bore a confident smirk and deadly eyes that burned into Mr. Sikowitz like he were the only thing to be seen.

Sikowitz didn't know of her presence since she was on the other side of the one-way mirror, so that was a good thing. As an intern, she wouldn't be able to involve herself in an interrogation.

"I don't own any swords." Sikowitz uncrossed his arms and waved his hands in the air. "I have nothing to hide. Do I like those children? Right now, no. If you're going to arrest me for being angry at them over my nephew's death, go for it, I'm guilty." David placed a sheet of paper in front of the man and pointed to a large, red _F_ written at the top.

"I looked over Miss West's paper, she's gotten all but three questions correct. Out of fifty questions, two points apiece, I believe that's a ninety-six." Sikowitz rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest once more. "I understand your anger, Erwin. Believe me, I'm angry with them as well." He leaned back and put his hand on his chest. "But I can't let that anger interfere with my job. I'm a cop, I can't afford to have clouded judgment. Neither should you, you're an educator."

"I admit it was wrong of me to fail the students, but that is the extent of my crime. Besides, what reason would I have to harm either Principal Eikner or Lane? The two of them were friends of mine."

"I've seen the best of friends murder one another, Erwin." He narrowed his eyes and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I've seen brothers kill, I've seen parents mutilate their children and children slaughter their parents. We live in a world where people say 'no, they wouldn't do that' or 'they have to be crazy', but those are only phrases spoken by a wishful mind."

Sikowitz growled through his clenched teeth, and a flicker of rage shone in his eyes. "I didn't kill two of my closest friends to get back at the children for my nephew's death." Trina could see a glimpse of understanding in her father's eyes, so she knew he believed the man.

As for herself, she had a feeling Sikowitz wasn't responsible for the murders either. The man was bitter and filled with rage, and rage was a powerful emotion that could certainly lead to murder, but his wrath would be directed at the kids themselves.

If he were to resort to murder, he would be direct and not waste his time. This man wasn't a thinker that would try and lead the police into focusing on some external motive, he would go straight to the true target.

"I don't think he's guilty of anything but bitterness," Trina said aloud. Gary was beside her, leaning his waist against a wall. His arms crossed at his stomach and his eyes seemed to be focused on her. "What do you think?"

"Probably not him." Gary looked up and towards the window. "The police haven't found anything of note at his home yet, nothing that would indicate him of a murder." The man chuckled once and shook his head. "Ironically they did find a sword."

"Oh?"

"Plastic. Prop piece. It couldn't slice bread, let alone decapitate somebody." Gary moved to the door and pushed it open, leaning into the room. "Dave." David sat upright, glancing at the man with annoyance. "That's not your guy. Can't be."

"Then we're back at square one." Trina bowed her head and released a long exhale. "Perfect." She was glad Sikowitz didn't seem to be responsible. He was an oddball, he was a bit crazy and eccentric, but he wasn't a killer.

Plus, he had an alibi for two of the murders. A receipt had been obtained from a bar for the night of Lane Alexander's murder, he'd been there from the hours of ten in the evening to four o'clock in the morning. Lane was murdered at 2:30.

As for Elba's murder, he wasn't even in town. He'd gone to visit his sister in Sacramento for the weekend. She and the bartender both confirmed his alibis.

There hadn't been a murder since Holly's suicide, and that was a bit unsettling for Trina to learn. The woman's ranting and raving about Benny to the police was suspicious, and her depression could have caused her to emotions to amplify.

The only issue with her as a suspect was Gary himself could clear her by giving a reasonable alibi. She was with him on the nights of Principal Eikner's murder and Benny himself. They were watching a series of romantic comedies that were saved on the DVR.

Even Gary received a call from someone on the night of Benny's murder, placing him at his house at the time of death. Holly could not have committed those crimes, not that Trina thought the woman would have.

There was little in her line of thought to suggest Holly could have stood her own against Elba, the only victim to fight their attacker. "Do we have any other suspects at all, Gary?"

"None." He ran his hand across his neck and closed his eyes. "Each person had enemies, sure, but no mutual ones. I don't want to assume our victims were picked at random, but so far there doesn't seem to be a common thread in the way of mutual contacts."

"I still think it's someone at Hollywood Arts. Has to be."

"I agree, it would have to be somebody that would have wanted that school shut down as well. At least, that's what I'm thinking…there have been no demands and no further killings since they shut their doors."

David entered the room, pushing his hand through his coarse brown hair. "Honestly, how can it be this difficult to find someone associated with Hollywood Arts that is connected to our victims and owns a sword?" He shook his head and spread his arms out. "How the hell do we have no suspects? Can someone answer that question for me?"

"Maybe we're looking at it from the wrong angle," Trina said as she tapped her chin and peered through the mirror at Mr. Sikowitz. They were focusing little on the weapon and more on the school, which wasn't terrible, but they could certainly put more focus on the weapon. "We know or at least we can assume the murder weapon is a sword. Perhaps we should start looking at what type of sword is being used and the places that sword might be manufactured or obtained."

"She poses a point." Gary picked up a mug full of coffee and raised it towards his lip. "Each blade is going to be different, right? Each sword is going to have a different type of cut, correct?"

"Possible."

"Then we have the decapitations. I would put my money on that being done by a two handed blade." He tilted his mug, taking a long sip before lowering it back to waist level. "Something like a katana, maybe, or a machete."

"There are weapon shops all over Los Angeles that sell different styles of blades." David bounced his hand in the air and paced the floor. His eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a scowl. "There's bound to be a thousand weapon enthusiasts just living in our area."

"Well until we can narrow the list, every person that owns a sword or a long and possibly heavy blade can be considered suspect."

The downside to this was it was essentially the same as a murder victim being shot and saying anyone in possession of a gun was suspect. While it was true, it left the field far too broad and open.

Trina couldn't figure out the best way to approach this situation, but at the very least, figuring out where the murder weapon might have come from was a good start. "There's something else that I'm thinking about." She sat on the corner of a desk and crossed her arms just under her breasts. David and Gary looked to her, listening eager as though hoping she had a good idea. "If our murder weapon is a sword, we have to consider the height of the suspect."

"Oh?"

"Swords are going to come in different lengths to match the height. You're not going to see a six foot man wielding a fifteen inch sword, for example. Much less, you won't see a five foot guy carrying a thirty-five inch sword."

David's frown deepened and Gary muttered something under his breath. "She's right," Gary said while uttering a curse. "We don't know the height of the killer." Trina hummed thoughtfully, thinking of the slice on the victims' necks.

"Or do we?" If the victims were beheaded while standing up, the angle of the slice could determine a potential height. "Were any of the decapitations done while standing?"

"I believe Eikner was already dead. The beheadings were done after death." David's finger tapped furiously on his chin, then he whisked his hand away and snapped his fingers. "Except Lane. Lane was found dead in the chair next to his desk."

"How tall is that chair, Dad?"

"Let me see." David rushed to a desk and grabbed one of the folders. He started chuckling as he rummaged through the papers. "Neck level, Lane sitting in the chair comes up just a little over five feet from the ground. Five foot and two inches." He removed a photo of the neck area and raised it up. "There is a slight downward angle to the slice, indicating that the killer may be around five feet and five inches at most."

"So we're getting somewhere?"

"I'd say so. We still don't have any suspects to name, but now we've got an idea of how tall our suspect might be." Trina could think of some people that height who were associated with Hollywood Arts. For one, Mrs. Belknap was around that height, but it was unlikely to consider her a suspect when it was her own school.

Some of Tori's friends were that height as well, but again, unless the killer had a vendetta against Jade's father or Andre's grandmother, it was unlikely any of them were involved in the killings.

"We can agree Elba's murder was frenzied," Gary stated, "She fought and the killer fought back. It's very likely she would have been decapitated as well. Based on this theory, and the theory your daughter has about the corrupt or sinful victims-our sinners have been decapitated."

"Right."

"Then we have to look at personal. The mutilation of our victims. Elba's mutilation comes from her fighting, Eikner's comes from what looks to be a struggle to get up from the bed. Henry was only cut on the arm, while Lane it appears the killer simply didn't have a personal dislike for."

"He was simply stabbed through the chest and promptly beheaded, barely any time to get out of the chair."

"Correct." Gary crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Benny is the most mutilated of all our victims…I think it's time we started looking into his life, don't you?" David breathed out slowly and Trina started to nod.

Any victims that Benny had, or any people he may have pissed off could very well have killed him in the violent manner that he had. The only problem was connecting him to the other victims.

"We still have to find that connection, Gary. If Benito truly is guilty of what he's accused of, his victims might not even be associated with the others or with the school. We can't suspect them just for that reason, it's not enough."

"I know, and I know you don't want to look at your brother's life, but it has to be done. It has to be questioned. You cannot let emotional attachments cloud your judgment."

"Yeah, I've figured that out, thank you…"

* * *

So they've interrogated Sikowitz. He's been ruled out as the Assassin, but not ruled out as the Caller. Don't forget, they don't know about the Caller yet-the reason as the Assassin said in the past was so if they were ever caught, the Caller would not be discovered. What are your thoughts as the investigation loses a prime suspect? Could Gary be right to say for them to investigate Benny's past? Would someone he hurt possibly be angry and in enough pain do all of this? What are your thoughts?


	15. Lesson to Teach

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 15 (Lesson to Teach)

"You're improving!" Trina cheered for Jade as the girl performed a strong formation. Jade hopped up from the ground and flashed a tooth-filled grin. "Good job." Jade grabbed a towel from the table and wiped the sweat on her neck.

"Thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you teaching me these moves. I know you're still angry with me and everything." It was true she still despised Jade, and under no circumstances was she prepared to forgive the girl for what she had done. An average person certainly wouldn't.

She shrugged nonetheless and grabbed the water bottle beside her. "We have a mutual reason for needing to learn self-defense. There's a killer out there, we want to feel safe. Point-blank." Trina poured the cool liquid into her mouth, swished it around a couple times, then swallowed. "Will the two of us ever be friends? Probably not. Will your friendship with Tori be fixed? I can't answer that, but it might be difficult…"

"At least you guys haven't cut off all contact."

"Right now, there's a pretty good reason for it. We all need each other, at least for a time." She set the bottle down and smirked while entering a fighter's stance in preparation for a sparring match. Jade followed suit, chuckling nervously. "Besides, sparring with you is an easy way to take out my aggression. On you."

"Oh shit."

"Just remember Jade, in a fight you don't have to be better than your opponent necessarily. You just have to be good enough to protect yourself and get away."

This was the first time they were planning to spar. She felt Jade was ready for a match, and Trina was eager to give her one. Of course, it took longer for Jade to reach this point than it had for her to spar with Jason-and it was highly unlikely that the match would end the same way for Jade.

"Sparring matches don't actually hurt as much as people say, I hope. I mean, do you actually make contact?"

"Yes." Trina narrowed her eyes and slicked her lower lip with her tongue. "My advice to you?" Jade began to pale as Trina's voice grew deep. It was more of a ploy to get Jade to the point of being unsettled and nervous, as if her life were in true danger. "Run."

"Um, how exactly did your first sparring match go with Jason? Can I ask?"

Trina closed her eyes and shrugged. "We wound up so worked up after an intense workout that we ended up having sex." Jade's jaw fell open and Trina lunged forward. "Now fight."

Jade threw her arm up in time to deflect a sudden kick towards her head. "I so wasn't ready." She pulled away and threw a punch at Jade's fist. The girl put her palms together, pushing forward to deflect the punch. "Damn!"

"In a real fight, you're not going to get any warning from your opponent. They seek to eliminate, you must defend yourself without expecting them to tell you when they're going to attack."

"This isn't a real fight though, right?"

"Sure, but I'm not giving you the pleasure of announcing my next strike." She was a tough coach, and the technique seemed fine whether spectators thought it was harsh or not. "Be happy we're just in the confines of the backyard. A bigger space, and there'd be more room for sparring."

"And let me guess, sneak attacks too? Just to show me how someone might sneak up on me?" Trina leapt behind a nearby tree, then bolted for another that was two feet away. When Jade turned to search for her, she popped out behind the girl and slid an arm around her throat.

She could feel the muscles tensing in Jade's shoulders and neck, and quickly dug her knuckles into the girl's lower back. "You're not on high alert. Always be on high alert." Jade broke from her, spun around and leaned back while delivering a high left kick. Trina had to duck sideways and raised her right hand up and across her torso, pushing against Jade's ankle.

Jade followed up with a sharp right jab, and Trina pushed down on the girl's wrist while jumping away. She was proud to see her getting into the match now, and finally appearing to understand that she wasn't going to go easy on her just because she was new.

It had been a few weeks since she started learning, 'being new' was no longer an acceptable excuse.

She was still fairly weak, her form was on the right track but she had several openings that Trina could be taking advantage of. "You're not on total guard, Jade." She raised her knee, slamming it into Jade's left. The girl flinched and jumped away just as Trina rushed around her. "Guard your body."

She slashed her left arm down, striking Jade in the center of her back and forcing her to stumble forward. "Counter, Jade, counter." The girl rolled forward, pulled herself up and delivered a surprising back kick that Trina deflected at the last second. "Not bad!"

"Thanks." Jade hopped on her feet and turned up her curious eyes. "Hey, how's Ian doing? I know Cat said the guy's in the hospital; Tori hasn't told us anything that's going on with him." She started to frown and relaxed her stance.

"Ian's dying. He has a brain tumor and has been hospitalized, the doctors say there's nothing they can do." She crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed onto the girl, piercing through her like a knife. "So what happened with you guys and him?"

Tori had already told her, but she wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth herself. Jade shook her head slowly and moved towards the small table. "I don't know, we were teasing him and Courtney. They didn't like our school, and we took it as an insult. Doing as I do, I insulted back."

"You got defensive."

"Yeah. I called them a couple nerds with no life. They yelled back, Beck came to my defense and soon all of us were shouting at each other." Jade's head bowed and her hand slicked through her long dark hair. "Tori was so petrified. I guess she didn't know what to say, or maybe she was too scared to jump in."

"Then they said they were through with her because she didn't stick up for them when they were being put down. Am I right?"

The girl dropped her gaze and shrugged. "Yeah, that's when we told her they weren't worth it if they 'couldn't stand the heat'. We blamed them, couldn't take responsibility."

Trina walked to Jade, patting her on the back as she passed the girl by. "Yeah, I don't know what to tell you. Ian and Courtney haven't spoken to Tori since that fight either."

"Does she hate us?"

"I'm not sure if 'hate' is the right word." It was difficult to say just how deep Tori's anger was, the girl had her issues like everyone else. "You and the others should have understood how important Ian and Courtney had been to her, then maybe you wouldn't have treated them the way you had."

"How important were they?" Trina closed her eyes as a heaviness grew in her chest. It really wasn't her place to discuss the matter, but Tori was unlikely to tell the group at this point. Jade's brow started to furrow as the girl moved towards her, raising her voice with concern. "Trina?"

"Tori and I have had some _issues_ since we were children." She steadied her breathing and rolled her head to the side. "We were antisocial for a while, didn't trust a lot and kept together." Her hands closed up and she raised her chin and gaze to the puffy clouds above them. "Even now we're at that point where it's like we think all we have left to rely on is one another. We never let anybody close to us. Jason and Ian? Well they represent the first people that ever got close enough…and they are."

She turned and frowned as she saw Jade's widening gaze. "Ian had an interest in Tori, so he kept pursuing her and talking to her. One day she decided to talk back, and they became quick friends." She crossed her arms, her chest expanded as her gaze became sharper. "Ian got paired up one day in a science class to Courtney, so he and Tori became friends with her. They used to do everything together, the first friends she ever had. They're not only very important to her, they were more important than any of you guys."

Jade's hand rose over her mouth, but she kept quiet. There wasn't much that could be said to all of that anyway, and Trina didn't expect her to have something to say, though she was shocked when she didn't.

While she was being curt and stern, she wasn't as blunt to say what it all meant in the simplest of terms. Ian and Courtney had been the ones to pull Tori out of the shell, the ones to get her to trust people again. If not for Ian's persistence when they were young again, Tori would never have had friends to begin with-much less would she have ever associated with Jade's group.

"You guys should thank Ian, to be honest. His persistence in showing her that she could be friends with somebody is what enabled her to become friends with the lot of you guys."

"Trina?" Tori's voice filled her ears and she turned sideways towards her sibling. When she saw streaks of tears on her sister's face, a shot of concern pierced through her. "I just got a call from the hospital, from Ian's father…" Her heart began to sink and she extended her arms, letting Tori collapse into them.

The girl clutched Trina's shirt tight and buried her face into her chest while her sobs filled the air. In the corner of her eyes she saw Jade making her approach, but raised her hand to stop the girl from coming any further.

It was good Jade wanted to comfort Tori, but right now was the wrong time. For as much as Tori blamed her friends for losing Ian's and Courtney's friendship, she knew with the amount of grief the girl was dealing with now, that anger would only flare up no matter what Jade did or said.

Jade nodded, understanding the situation, and sauntered into the home. The girl looked back with pittance and shook her head before disappearing behind the glass door.

The time for them to offer their condolences had long since passed; since Jason's funeral at the very least. Even before then, they should have concerned themselves more with being friends for a friend in need than they concerned themselves with being bullies.

It was late, much too late.

* * *

So what are your thoughts and observations with reading this chapter? Trina had some good words for Jade, do you suppose she understands now? Also, it seems Trina and Tori are fairly close as sisters. Looks like Ian has finally passed away from that brain tumor, and we know Courtney's no longer living in the same area. Tori's friends better step up to the plate.


	16. Two in One

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Ah here we go. This chapter could also be called the fall, two crucial people

* * *

Chapter 16 (Two in One)

Making my way to the small vanilla home perched in an odd part of town, all can think of is how my victim is far too innocent to die. A hit is still a hit, and I will do as the caller asks of me. This time, even the caller has asked for mercy to be given to the target.

I've found some of the caller's judgment calls to be questionable, and I was nothing but angry when they killed Holly. That woman's death was not a part of our plan. There is another death that must occur which is not a part of the plan either, but this one has more reason than Holly's; so tonight I will take two lives instead of one.

First, it will be the victim of mercy. I know what points of the body will aid in creating the swiftest death, and I will plunge my wakizashi beneath the first vertebra of the spine. Doing so equals instant death to the victim, and for her it is the most merciful that I can be.

As I enter the home, a great sorrow swells in my heart. My eyes drift to a photograph of a young girl with vibrant fire red hair and wondrous soft eyes. The child is innocent of all and guilty only of silence, but I understand why the caller asks for her death.

She is high strung, and she will grieve the most as our future targets fall. Taking her life now spares her from the future heartache she will certainly suffer.

Passing by the couch, someone's snore stops me in my tracks. My eyes dart to the couch a few feet away and I duck down behind it. Slowly I rise and peer over the top edge, and to my dismay the sleeper is not my target.

It is a girl with golden locks and olive skin. She is on her back, with her head nestled between the couch's cushion and arm. Her right harm hangs over the edge and her left leg is bent upwards at the knee. There's a familiarity to her, but where I may have seen her does not come to my thoughts.

Regardless of who she is, I am aware of the target's roommate and know I must not rouse this girl from her sleep lest I fail my mission tonight.

"Sleep well, for you are not my target," I whisper softly before making my way towards a doorway. I do not need another fight, nor do I need anything that might give the police a clue to my identity.

I hear a noise coming from the hallway, and I spot a light turned on beneath a door in the center. As the door begins to slide open, I push myself against the wall and grip my wakizashi firmly with my right hand.

A boy with a muscular build and tan complexion steps out of the bathroom, drying his hands with a small washcloth. His focus appears to be on the cloth and not on that of his surroundings.

It would be easy to slide my sword across his throat just as he steps with his back turned to me, but once again I must refrain as he is not a target and I need no unnecessary victims.

It's unclear who this boy is, but as I watch him depart into the living room, my curiosity is soon answered. "He's here for the blonde…" I release my breath and make my way towards the back bedroom.

Moonlight spills into the room from a window above the girl, and shines onto her like a spotlight cast upon a starlet on a stage. The girl is in her bed with her blanket covering over her waist, her left hand is beside her head while her right forearm is draped over her stomach.

The girl's red hair covers her face and pale neck, and is tucked beneath the collar of her pink nightgown. Beneath the lamp to her right is a photograph of a boy with thick glasses and curly brown hair; it's a surprise to see the picture, and I can only assume this is a person she might have feelings for.

"I'm sorry, but I need to turn you over." Carefully I slide my hands beneath the girl and push upwards, hoping the sensation will cause a subconscious reaction. The girl giggles at my touch and mentions her roommate's name before twisting her body away from me.

I try to turn her again, only to receive the same reaction. After several more seconds, she turns onto her side and hugs the edge of the bed Her hair falls over the front of her shoulder, leaving me a clear view of her neck.

I take my sword, and with a large inhale, sink its blade into the back of her neck just beneath the first vertebra. Cat's body flinches and blood begins to pour out like a river.

Sorrow floods my veins as I make my departure. In the living room, the boy has cuddled behind the blonde, spooning her gently. The scene brings a smile to my face, but a tear to my eye as well, reminding me of someone that was once very close and dear to my heart.

The rag on the table beside the couch was used by the boy to dry his hands, but I grab it and use it to clean the blood off the tip of my blade. Before I leave the house, I take one final glance at the couple.

The next target doesn't take long to reach, as he is only a ten minute walk from Cat's location. Before entering the home, I see a light turned on in one of the rooms. I press my back against the wall and gently peer into the home, hoping the man is asleep and simply forgot to turn out a light.

Much to my chagrin, he is sitting up at a desk and going through some paperwork. This man is Gary Malone, one of the officers working to solve these murders. He isn't one of our planned targets, but he is growing suspicious and must be eliminated if we are to reach our goal.

All of a sudden there's a loud crash that jolts through my body. My eyes dart to a nearby trash bin, and a raccoon runs off into the distance. My hand grips my heart and I look back at the window to see Gary rising from the desk.

His back is still turned to me, but I see his hand reaching slowly into the left, topmost drawer of the desk. My heart continues to slam against me, sending a dull throbbing sensation across my chest. "What are you reaching for?" I whisper. All of a sudden, I see his head turn and his eyes slide to the corners of their sockets.

For a split second, I feel his eyes upon me, burning through to my soul. His hand pulls from the drawer, and with it is a 9mm pistol. "You wouldn't be aiming for a raccoon, would you?" I move away from the window and scan the area for any places I can hide, but this side of the house is fairly clear of any debris.

Looking back into the window, Gary is no longer in the room. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as a clicking noise sounds off behind me. "I have six bullets, you have a sword." His voice is deep and aggressive, and I am left with little doubt that he will put me down. "Put your hands in the air, and keep them there."

He is standing on the steps of his porch, just a little more than three feet from me. His gun is aimed directly at my head like an extension of his arm. The only words registering in my mind at this point are the number of bullets he says he has.

I know what I must do to survive and put an end to this man; I must outlast the number of bullets in his gun.

Thinking fast, I duck down and roll to the right. On reflex he fires his first shot. I feel the wind from the bullet soaring past my head, and a small patch of dirt next to me flies into the air.

With a low growl, I turn my eyes to the man. Gary sneers at me, the skin around his eyes grows tense as he grinds his teeth. "I said freeze, you piece of shit." He moves his left foot onto the step below him and raises his left hand to the gun. His body crouches low and his sharp glare is thrust into my chest. "Make no further movements!"

I can't help but to wonder if the man has already called the police for backup. As smart as this man is, he likely has, so I have a limited time to act while making him waste the remaining five bullets in his gun.

There is a chance I can get close to him before then, but it is risky.

I sweep a clump of dirt into my left hand and promptly throw it at his face. I see a bright flash of light followed by the sound of thunder, and once more a rush of air shoots past me.

"That's two, asshole." The words leave my lips in a whisper, so as not to alarm him. The man is clever, and there is a small chance if I speak he might know my voice.

As the area is much too open for my liking, I turn on my heels and run around the house. Gary calls after me, and I can hear his heavy footsteps racing behind me. I continue to run around the perimeter of the home until I've reached the door he's left ajar.

Confidence and adrenaline course through my veins as I slip into the home. I run into the area he was working, and before turning the lights, I glance at the desk and see my photograph in plain view. It turns my blood cold and pales my skin; he knows my identity. Or at the very least, he suspects me.

This cements the end goal for me, Gary's life absolutely must end.

I turn out the lights and press myself against the wall, listening to the sound of Gary's heavy breathing moving through his home. He flips on the light of each room he passes through, eliminating the darkness that I can shroud myself in.

"You crafty son of a bitch…"

"I don't want to have to shoot you," he calls out from the next room, "But I _will_ put you down if I have to." His words bear no comfort, but I cannot fault the man for doing his job. He thinks like an officer and enforcer of the law, not like someone that might bear an emotional attachment to anyone involved.

That fact may lead to the undoing of one of us, and I aim for it to be him.

His hand reaches into the room, moving towards the light switch beside me. My breath holds in my throat and my right hand flexes before I reach and grab his wrist. I feel Gary's arm tighten just before pulling him into the room.

Thinking fast, I raise my leg and deliver a swift front kick into his lower back. The man emits a pained scream and topples to the ground, shooting off another round of his gun. The round buries itself into the wall as Gary clutches his back and begins to groan.

"Back trouble? That's your weakness?"

"Fucking shit." Gary flings himself onto his back, curls his knees inward and aims the gun in my direction. I run before he can fire another shot, ducking behind the couch in the living room.

I hear the man groan and poke my head around the side of the couch. He's limping into the living room, his left hand caresses his lower back and his right arm hangs at his side.

I see his eyes glint onto me, and before I know it he's raising his arm. I pull my head back just as his fourth shot grazes the couch and sinks into the ground where I had been.

His aim is impressive, even when he's wounded, but it won't be enough. "You think you're going to kill me?" Gary's voice bellowed and trembled with anger. "I served my time in the military in sniper regiment, don't think you can keep avoiding my shots forever."

"Shit…" If this rings true, there's a chance the man has more than one gun in the house. My heart is racing more than usual, and I feel my body growing exhausted, but I cannot give up now.

If I reveal my face to him, perhaps it will cause him to hesitate, but there's a chance that ploy won't work. He knows of my crimes, those lives will mean more to him than mine.

"Come on, quit hiding behind that damn couch." I can see his shadow behind me as he walks around to my side of the couch. His gun makes a clicking sound and his left foot slides into view.

I clench my teeth and kick my foot outward, striking his ankle with every ounce of my strength. The man topples like a giant, screaming out with tremendous pain. "Marksman or not, you've become a target that must be eliminated." I rise and slide my wakizashi from its sheath. "Farewell."

Gary thrusts his right hand up as I expect, and without hesitation I swing my sword through his wrist. The man's eyes open wide and he rolls over, clutching the stump of his arm tight.

The wakizashi drops from my hand, striking the ground with a metallic clink just as I remove my katana from its sheathe. Gary looks up to me just as I raise the katana above my head.

His eyes darken for a split second and his mouth stretches into a vicious scowl. "You will be caught," Gary says with his final breaths. "You will be stopped, your reign of terror over this town won't last."

"You're a smart man, Gary." With my words, I see his strong demeanor fade and horror flashes before his eyes. I surmise only that he recognizes my voice, and now I cannot go back from this. "I have no gripe with you. If not for your getting so close, it might not have come to this. Unfortunately, you're a roadblock to our plans."

"'Our'?"

"Yes. There are two of us."

"Son of-" I bring my katana down, sliding it through his neck with every ounce of strength pouring through my body.

I have enough time to clean my weapons and destroy my photograph before the police can respond to his call, by the time that they arrive, I have left the area. I'm confident the police are now no closer to discovering my identity, and the imminent threat has been successfully eliminated.

* * *

Two have perished, Gary gave a good fight but lost out in the end. His flaw was his affair, but in the end, he was still a good cop trying to fight for what was right. Cat's murder may be tricky for the police as well, do you suppose? Do you have any further observations? Any further thoughts or suspicions?


	17. Innocence Lost

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 17 (Innocence Lost)

The living room was filled with the anguished screams and cries of Tori's friends, an odd sight when taking into the usual thickness of the men. Trina had never seen Beck or Andre cry, and since they were so distraught, there was no one to console Jade.

Robbie had spoken very little, as though the Shadow Slayer wound up stealing the vocal cords from his throat during the night. He was trembling like a leaf however, and looked ready to melt into a puddle of his own flesh.

Tori was beside herself with grief and confusion, unable to comfort all of her friends at once. "She was the best of us," Jade wept, "She was innocent. She was sweet. Pure. Why is she gone? Why her? Why not us?" Jade buried her face into her boyfriend's jacket, muffling her screams into it.

"I don't know," Beck replied shakily. "She didn't deserve to die." The police report stated Cat had been stabbed in the back of the neck, in such a way her death would have been instant and without pain as she perished in her sleep. There was no hate to her murder, no anger.

The police were questioning both her roommate and her roommate's boyfriend, whose DNA had been found on the rag containing Cat's blood. The only problem with using him as a suspect was he didn't own a sword and none of the knives in the kitchen had trace amounts of blood on them.

Furthering the issue of using him as a suspect was that he remained at his girlfriend's side the remainder of the night. They awoke sometime during the middle of the night and called the police, half of which were on their way to Gary's home, answering his call of distress.

As for Gary, it was baffling. He clearly fought off his attacker as bullet casings were found strewn about his home, but there was no trace evidence of anybody in the home besides him. His hand had been chopped off, then he was beheaded while he was still among the living.

In his home office he had been going over the case, and there were a series of notes that determined he was close to finding out the identity of the killer. If only he survived, maybe there would be a new suspect.

"Man." Andre leaned in his chair, holding his hand on his forehead. "Man I thought it was over, I thought the school shutting its doors was what the killer wanted."

"Gary was close," Trina said quietly. The others glanced at her and she took a deep breath. "The killer took his life too, maybe because he was getting so close. If only…if only he'd been faster."

It was up to her father now, and David was in a rough state of things with the news of Gary's murder. Like it or not, Gary was the one holding things together, the one keeping him from losing his grasp on everything. Now with the man gone, there was nothing keeping David from crashing.

Trina hoped she and Tori would be able to help him to remain strong, but she had her doubts. She was curious how Jade and Andre were getting by with the losses they'd suffered, especially knowing how the parent they were with was single.

"Jade? Andre? How have you guys been holding up since…you know?" They looked up, Andre shrugged and Jade started shaking her head.

"Not well," Jade answered. "I've had to move in with my mother, of all people, so you can only imagine how well that's turning out." Not good if the mother was still abusive and demeaning, but hopefully Jade would be able to bounce back. "Andre? Aren't you able to get by?"

"Barely. I'm trying to find a job. For now, I have a little money, but college is out of the question." Not attending college at the moment was an understandable choice. Everything was far too crazy to think about certain elements. Although, for Trina, she still intended to go through and finish college in order to progress in her career field.

"Ian's dead too," Tori said aloud. "Everyone's going away." The others looked her way and each of them frowned in reply. She had a knack for inappropriate timing, but Trina suspected Tori was doing it intentionally.

The girl was angry, there was no doubt in her mind about that. Despite wanting to help them or comfort them, it made sense Tori might want to make them feel guilty about other matters.

"I'm not in the best place to say this, Sis, but you might want to lay off the guilt trip on them for a little bit." Tori shot a glare at her, then shrugged. Jade and the others made gracious glances at Trina, but said little. The tension in the air was thick with their fear and uncertainty, and what was there to say when terrified that saying something might only aggravate matters?

At Cat's funeral, Trina guided Tori into the cathedral and peered down the pews with a heavy heart. She'd pictured walking down the aisle in a much different fashion, wearing white instead of black.

They met Jade and the others at the casket where Cat lay, it was one of the first open caskets granted to a victim of the Shadow Slayer. The girl lay with her hands folded over her stomach. Her lips were curved ever so slightly her skin had a strange and odd glow to it.

"This cannot be real." Jade hugged herself and her voice began to tremble. "This has to be a dream. A nightmare." Trina watched the girl extend a hand to the casket, curling her fingers over the side. "Cat shouldn't be there, she should be out here with us. Laughing, being silly and stupid."

Robbie placed a single rose with Cat, sliding the stem beneath the girl's hands. "She looks like she's sleeping," he said with a gentle whisper. Trina pressed her lips together as he leaned over to kiss the girl's forehead. "I…I only wish she knew how I felt. I wish none of this ever happened, and if I could go back and change anything that led to this, I would."

"At least she went peacefully," Andre said as he dried his eyes with a tissue. "That's what the police said, right? She was asleep, and where she was stabbed?" Trina gave him a nod and folded her arms across her chest.

"She wouldn't have felt anything. Most likely her death was instantaneous and swift." None of them thought it was surprising the killer had been so merciful with her, but she couldn't fault them when they were terrified enough about everything else going on. "The police think Officer Malone was getting close to the killer's identity, and that's why he's dead, but we can't figure out why Cat was targeted especially."

It was of little comfort, but they needed to hear it regardless. If Cat was targeted, then they could be as well. The only problem was Hollywood Arts was shut down and there was no motive for Cat's death.

"It's a bad time, but can any of you think of someone that would want to harm her?"

Jade through her hands up, questioning if the assassin was the same person. Things were bleak as they were desperate, and if the assassin was the same, then the murders made little sense. "The killer just jumped from adults with a hand in Hollywood Arts to a teenage girl with vibrant red hair." Jade's voice was laced with anger, and her eyes lit with a flash of fire. "I'd question just about anybody at this point."

Beck put his arm around Jade's and led her towards one of the pews. "So would I," he said while looking back to the others. "Maybe Cat knew something she shouldn't have?"

"Or…" Andre started to laugh. It was fueled by his nerves and appeared to be his attempt at deflecting the crisis with humor. "Or maybe the killer just wants to kill all of us, and _because Cat's_ the nice one, she was killed first and mercifully so she didn't have to watch us die."

Trina raised an eyebrow while Tori scoffed. "That isn't funny, Andre."

"Sorry. I just…I don't know."

Robbie was still by the coffin, his body trembled above Cat's, and a tear glinted from his face. It was painful to watch, and yet, Trina couldn't turn away. She looked towards Cat, tilting her head to the right.

For a moment she saw Jason as he lay in state. She was set up nearly identical with him, all the way to the rose that Trina had placed under Jason's hands.

The more she thought about it, the more her gut wrenched with great pain as though someone were wringing it out like a washcloth. She turned away from the casket with tears welling up in her eyes. "I can't be here," she said in a shaky tone, "It's too much seeing her like this."

It was more than that, though. It was all the death and bloodshed, and all the loss that everyone was suffering, whether personal or not. It was far too difficult for her to handle it all at once, and seeing Robbie standing over the one he loved was enough to break her.

Trina left the cathedral without much else to say, letting the others mourn as she kept her thoughts to herself. Her eyes drifted towards the sky and for a moment she thought she could see Jason, parting the clouds. With him, all the others who had been murdered, and even Ian himself was staring down at her.

"What am I supposed to do?" Her knees started to buckle, so she took a seat on a nearby stone. The world felt like that to her; as if she were standing isolated on the single rock structure in the middle of a rushing tide threatening to take her to sea. "I'm trying my best to keep my footing, but I'm being swept away. This stress, it's unbearable. This life is too hard…"

"You can't give up now," someone said. Her body flinched and she turned her head, gazing over her shoulder at Tori. "We need to stick together." Tori's lips slid into that of a faint smile. "We'll make it. There's a lot of life left to live, a lot left to be done."

Her tears poured from her face and her already fragile, cracked soul began to splinter. "I-I can't." Her face fell into her hands, and her entire body shook with grief and anguish. "I can't do this."

"I need you, Sis." Trina felt her sister's arms slide around her. Her muscles tightened as Tori buried her face into the nape of her neck, then she began to relax. "We need each other right now. Everything's crazy."

"I don't know how much longer I can go on."

"You wouldn't leave me."

"I wouldn't." Living after all this loss was hard, and the sweet embrace of death was something she could only dream of. Tori was right, however, she needn't give up just yet. "Tori?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, Cat's the one I liked. Out of your friends, she's the one I thought was decent." Tori raised her head and Trina started to sigh. "Now that she's gone? God, I don't even know…"

Cat was too much of a grievous loss for her, but mostly because of her innocence. Nobody else was as innocent as she, and as such, there was no one else that deserved to live any more than she did.

There was a part of her that hoped maybe Andre was right, that this killer took Cat's life in order to spare her the pain and torment she would feel if any of her other friends perished.

Even then it would have been better had Cat lived, because her death was more a symbol of all there was to lose.

* * *

Well, what do you think of everything? Their grief is real, and do you think Andre's onto something? Maybe not, but what are your thoughts? Looks like Tori's afraid all she has left to depend on now is her sister, and vice versa, but maybe that's not the case. We'll see what happens next.


	18. Too Far Gone

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Tomorrow I've got a long drive ahead of me, so I thought I'd upload this now for you guys.

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Chapter 18 (Too Far Gone)

"I can't do this." Trina remained calm while watching her father slam his fist into the desk. The man was frustrated and angry, he'd lost his best friend and the one person with more clarity in this investigation than he had. She feared he was losing hope, but didn't know how to give him hope to continue. "Gary was right, I was too emotionally charged, and I still am."

David slid his hands down along his face and slapped them away as though shaking off water. "He was onto something, he said he had an idea who the Slayer might be." Trina's eyebrow rose and her head rolled to the right. David paced the floor, shaking his head furiously. "He didn't tell me anything, so I don't know if he was even on the right track."

"He might have been."

"You don't understand. Gary was a better investigator than I am, he always had been." She frowned as he turned to her. His eyelids were lined with tears and his hands were trembling. "He was more intelligent; stronger and more able to focus. He didn't get stressed as easily-if _anyone_ could have solved this case, it was him. Now he's gone…I'm alone."

"You're not alone, Dad." She rose from her chair and placed a steady hand onto his shoulder. Her lips rose to a smile as he turned his eyes into hers. "No matter what happens, no matter how far apart we are, you'll never be alone. That's the same with Mom, and the same with Gary too." She took a deep, trembling breath and closed her eyes. "I hope you will always know that I love you no matter what, so no, you're not alone."

"But this case." He pulled from her and bent over his desk, glaring down at his flinching hands. Trina walked up behind him, placing her hand to his back and peering at the veins bulging from the surfaces of his hands. "Without Gary-"

"You'll be fine. You can do it, Dad. You _are_ smart enough. You are capable. You don't have to rely on Gary." It hurt to see her father so defeated, and while she would give anything to make him feel better, she knew there was truly nothing she could do. "Don't lose confidence in yourself. People depend on you, people have died that deserve justice…" She stopped for a moment and looked off to the side.

 _Justice._

The Slayer seemed to be taking matters into their own hands, killing those who were deemed immoral and unjust. "Vigilante." She looked back at her father and he raised his head up to her. "The Assassin is a vigilante, and maybe even a hitman."

"Why do you suspect that?"

"Think about it. The targets were carefully selected. Granted, that's typical of serial killers, but do you have any other idea?" He scratched his chin and furrowed his brow.

"No." His reply was curt and simple, and mixed with a deep and exhausted sigh. "I'm still looking into what Gary said about Benito, but I can't bring myself to ask his wife or to tell the press to ask any of his victims to come forward." She dropped her shoulders and shook her head, sighing heavily.

"It's a tough choice, Dad. I know. I know you don't want to piss off Aunt Sonya, but for the sake of the investigation…"

"I know." He walked off to the right, growling under his breath. His hands closed tight and his eyes sharpened. "It's what Gary was saying. I'm 'too soft'. I know I should bring up the accusations, but I don't even know how."

There was no desire in his voice, only a great pain that Trina could feel deep in her gut. She wanted desperately to help, but didn't know how to do that at this point. Aunt Sonya would be angry at David either way, but the truth of the matter was, the police were supposed to do whatever it takes to solve a murder.

Benito may have died because of what he'd done, and if that was the case, any victims of his would have to be focused on. She couldn't bring herself to tell her father that both she and Tori were among those victims, she didn't want him to be in that much pain.

There was already a much greater pain that he'd be experiencing, and one that he was. He had to learn the hard way that his brother may have sexually abused a number of children-she and Tori were not the only victims of that man-but he'd just lost both his wife and his best friend.

How could she tell him that not only were his daughters victimized by his own brother, but they were forever traumatized and mentally messed up because of him?

Trina inhaled deep and slammed her eyes shut. "Dad? Why don't I investigate this?" David raised his eyebrows and cupped his hand over his mouth. "I'll ask Aunt Sonya. She may know something."

The woman was aware of her husband's transgressions. She was the one that caught him, the one that told the girls it would be okay if they didn't want to come around anymore.

Benito once volunteered as a mall Santa, and that was important to know, because that was how he selected a lot of his victims. Most were young girls around the age of eight to twelve, most were brunette and fairly small.

"I'll talk to Aunt Sonya. See what she knows." Her throat shut tight and as the tears welled up in her eyes, she turned away from her father. David groaned with uncertainty and she simply shrugged. "If it's too much for you to do, I will do it. You've gone through enough, just focus on the investigation."

"Trina, you don't need to look out for me."

"I may as well."

Hours later, the task had finished. The flashbacks in Trina's mind were vivid, and it was becoming harder for her to breathe while trying to push her pained thoughts away.

So much had been lost because of that man. She was filled with a great deal of anger and hatred, but it took every ounce of strength she had not to let it show.

"Sonya was helpful," Trina said into the phone. She was walking through the cemetery, headed towards Jason's grave while talking to her father. "She said the accusations were true, and she'd known for years but didn't know how to talk about it-she was afraid to speak out."

"She knew all this time?" He was loud and she could hear the frenzied huffs in the back of his throat. "She _knew_ what Benito had done but never went to the police?"

"How could she, Dad? You've always protected your family, you've always thought so highly of family that she was afraid you wouldn't even believe _her_."

She and Tori had thought the same for several years. Even with them, their father could never accept that his family would be anything less than perfect.

That was his greatest flaw: Thinking his family was beyond criminal behavior. Gary was right about one thing, that if he couldn't sift through his emotions, those emotions would be his biggest downfall.

"Gary was right, Dad. You think so highly of your family that you can't think they'd be capable of doing something like Uncle Benny did. You're a cop, you can't afford to think like that." He responded only with an uncomfortable grunt, so she opted to back off the topic. "Anyway, she said she's not sure how many victims Uncle Benny had, just that he would get the kid to tell him the area they lived…"

"Son of a bitch." David growled. Trina's heart grew heavy and a nauseous feeling swelled within her gut. "Why would they even tell him that?"

"He was Santa." She shrugged and looked down the row of graves. "Kids trust Santa." Tori took it worse than she did, but then, she always wanted to look out for her sister and take care of her. It was that sense of babying her that kept her focused on something besides her own grief. "Aunt Sonya didn't say much else about him, I think she was having a hard enough time."

"So I'm guessing she didn't know any details…"

"Other than most of his victims were young brown haired girls around eight to twelve, no she didn't." David's breathing hitched and for a moment Trina thought she'd lost the call. She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the phone with raised eyebrows. "Dad? Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just…this is hard."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong." She walked up to Jason's grave and looked to the right; Cat's wasn't far. Her eyes welled up with tears and her voice started to crack.

"Dad, I need to let you go alright? We can discuss the case later."

"Yeah, we'll do that. I love you sweetie."

"I love you too." She hung up the phone and stared down at Jason's grave with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her fingers started to tremble and she could feel her knees beginning to buckle. "Jason. I'm sorry…I'm sorry for everything."

Her desire to protect her little sister was overwhelming, too powerful, as was her willingness to do anything to make Tori happy. In her heart, she wanted to be with Jason, and she'd thought many times how she would take her life; but she couldn't.

Trina fell to her knees and grasped the dirt and grass tight between her fingers. Her stomach twisted violently and she tore out a loud, grievous cry. In her mind and her heart, she was sure Jason was looking down at her with anger and disappointment, or at the very least if he were still alive, he would be pissed.

"Forgive me. I let things go too far. I should have said no, I wanted to say no, but I was angry. I-" Her phone went off and she gasped out abruptly. She knew in an instant who it was, and was quick to answer. "Hello."

"Where are you?"

"Cemetery. I'm visiting Jason's grave."

"Oh."

She pictured Jason's stern lips and tense eyes. Her body began to shake violently as she shook her head. "It's gone one too far. Benny…he was enough. Cat shouldn't have died. She didn't deserve to die." The person on the other end answered with a laugh that chilled her bones.

"I know that."

"I was angry, but justice had to be done. I know. He got what he deserved, but Cat didn't do anything wrong. Her death wasn't needed. None of this is right, it's not just."

"Elba deserved what she got. Justice was done for her family. What has you worked up?"

"Dad." She opened her mouth, gasping as saliva flew from her lips. Her tears were like fire, burning and scarring her cheeks. "I-I can't do this to him. I can't. This isn't right, and then you went and killed-"

"We talked about that already. Please, we've come so far, we only have a little more to go. We can't stop now, after we're done we can end it." She clenched her eyes and dropped her head towards the ground. "Think about how much they've hurt you. Think about the lives they've destroyed. They have to die too, they need to understand where they've gone wrong."

"Don't they know they screwed up? Don't they know they fucked up?"

"No. They need to be taught a lesson. You're not the only person they screwed up." Trina bowed her head and waited for the person to grow quiet. She didn't enjoy the deaths, the killing was terrible, but she couldn't argue. "You're not the only life they destroyed. They must pay, and you know it." The caller stopped for a minute, breathing deeply and letting out a long sigh. "You said…you said you would do anything for me, you said you would go to the ends of the earth for me. No other would do that. Were you lying?"

"What?" Her eyes shot open and her voice grew swift and rushed. "No, never!" She sat upright and shook her head. She was going to take her life when it was all said and done, seppuku-a tactic commonly associated with the wakizashi blade-now more than ever. Justice would be done. For Cat, for Mr. West, for everyone.

"Think about Jason. He's dead because of them, you've earned justice. Think of all the times they've hurt you."

"Not like this. This isn't the right way…"

"Please, we need to follow through with this. Tell me you're not backing out now. Please." Trina took a deep breath and leaned her back against Jason's tombstone. Her eyes drifted towards Cat's grave and her lips pressed firmly together.

"Fine…If it was anyone else, they couldn't convince me."

"I know. I just-it's just a few more. That's all. After that, we'll be free."

"I don't know about free…" She wasn't free, not yet anyway. "I'll talk to you later." She clicked off the phone and raised her head towards the sky. She could only pray Jason would forgive her, she could only hope her father would be okay. He was in enough pain, but things were only going to get worse.

She was in too deep, too deep to back out now, and it was killing her more than losing Jason or her unborn daughter.

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Well my readers, what are your thoughts now?


	19. Andre Harris Falls

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

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Chapter 19 (Andre Harris Falls)

Was I angry still? Yes, and I still have a great hatred inside of me, but the targets have suffered enough. Still, the Caller wants them taken out. Hollywood Arts has been destroyed, as the Caller so desired due to their blaming of that school for destroying their lives, but it didn't stop there.

No. It won't stop until the Caller removes those who are responsible for further sufferings.

I stand now before the apartment of Andre Harris, a cheap place that he purchased after his grandmother's murder. I have to pull out every negative memory I have of this man if I am to take him out, but it's difficult. So before I begin to step into the house, I must steel my nerves.

It will be much harder for Detective Vega to catch me with Officer Malone dead, but maybe that is for the best. Perhaps this can end before it comes to that. It would be easy to end it now; to disappear and never have to be caught.

That is, however, not how the Caller wishes it. I must see this through to the end for them, for no sooner will the end come for those targeted by the Caller, than will the end come for me.

As I slide in through the doorway, a soft amber light catches my attention. Nearby is a fireplace with wood crackling and sending sparks up the brick chimney. In front of the fireplace is a couch where I notice Andre is silently sleeping.

The scene is eerily similar to my encounter with his grandmother that I can feel my bones chilling and my stomach curdling.

I push the memory aside with haste and sneak behind a nearby curtain. The room itself is far too lit and open for stealth, so in order to take out this target, I must be fast. I bear little hostility towards Andre, so I don't need a fight.

Andre's tough; the athlete of the group. If I awaken him, he is sure to go on the defense. More so if he realizes I am the one responsible for Elba's death.

Carefully I slide the wakizashi from its sheathe, delighting in the way the blade reflects the amber light nearby. "Justice will be swift," I say with a whisper. My eyes fall upon the sleeping form and I can feel the tension and air leaving my body.

While I find little hostility for him, I am aware of his personality which warrants justice being dealt upon him. Week by week this man plays the women he meets, using them until he is tired of them.

As if knowing his womanizing ways made this kill necessary or easy. I would be lying if I truly believed this.

Before stepping out from behind the curtain, I steel myself once more and close my eyes. I can picture my lover in my head, and constantly I pray for their forgiveness. I know what I do isn't the right way, and at first I let my anger get the best of me.

For the Caller I would do anything, and yet the Caller's ways are fully against my own philosophy. Therefore this can only end one way, but I fear leaving them by themselves.

"Just a few more," I tell myself. "Just a few more and I will end this." Andre Harris was part of the people the Caller blamed for destroying everything they held dear to their heart, and the Caller did not wish mercy be given to him like it was Cat.

Cat died because she was truly innocent. I personally have never had an issue with her, nor did the Caller. Some of her closest friends were being targeted, and she did not deserve to watch them die. Andre was to be first because he was strong; the bodyguard and protector almost. If he fell, the remaining targets may become nervous and more fearful, which was what the Caller asked for.

The closer I step towards him, the thinner the air around me becomes. I focus on his body, watching as he rolls over in his sleep. With each movement he makes, I freeze.

The openness of his living room might have been purposeful on his part, but I can't help to fume. I abhor the lack of places to hide on the off chance he should awake.

There is another doorway nearby that I can see leads into a hallway, so I can rush in that direction if I need to. It would be unwise, since he could run the opposite direction and flee his home.

Now I stand above him, so close I can almost feel his breath hitting me. Before I can move my sword towards him, I see his eyes flutter. My heart stops dead in my chest and I hold my breath as he opens his eyes and looks up at me.

"Who are you?" He asks drowsily. He blinks twice and stretches his arms out. His yawn echoes off the walls of the room and he sits up slowly. "Why, how did you get in my home?" Andre rubs his eyes and takes another look at me, freezing the moment his eyes strike mine.

I see a look of horror pass through them, and his mouth opens wide, but only a rasp escapes. "I am the Shadow Slayer. The Assassin. I've come to take your life." My words are swift and blunt, and I make no attempt to disguise my voice to him.

Through contemplation I wonder if I should reveal my face to him before taking his life, as if knowing who was behind the sword sent to murder him would be any sort of relief.

"I bear little hostility for you, Mr. Harris."

"Then why?" He stammers and throws his hands to his chest. "Why do you want to kill me?"

"It is not my desire, but the desire of the Caller." Andre visibly pales and I can see the question in his eyes. He whispers a shocked question that there would be two of us, and I nod simply. "I am the arm of the Caller. Those the Caller commands dead, I am to kill."

"W-Why do they want _me_ dead?"

"That I cannot tell you. It would be of little comfort to you either way." There was no point in prolonging this. Perhaps in his panic he didn't detect my voice, so I'm grateful for that. "While it may be unfair, die knowing you will see your family once again…"

"Why? I need a reason." His tone was shifting, and all of a sudden I heard a subtle growl. Andre clenched his hands and started to scoot onto the cushion to his right. I brace myself, tightening my muscles and waiting to see if he will run or attack. "You killed my grandmother. You exposed that she killed my entire family. Why can't I be left alone?"

He raised his voice and began to yell, but I did not flinch. "I told you, it is the Caller who has a reason to see you dead."

"That's not good enough." He pointed at me, hovering his hand just beside the tip of my sword. "You. What reason do _you_ have?" Unable to provide a response, I shrug. This generates a sneer from Andre.

"It's death. There is no reason I could give that would be satisfactory enough." Andre moves quickly from the couch and I take a step back, preparing to lunge at him. When he stops behind the couch, I refrain and hold him in place with my glare. "Don't try to run."

"You're a girl…" I see his eyes sliding along my body, examining me as if trying to find something familiar. "I would have thought you'd be a guy."

"The world is full of surprises." I crack my neck to the right and start to approach him. "I tire of this dialogue. I had hoped not to rouse you from your slumber…"

Andre scoffed and crossed his arms. "All this time, we've been afraid of a girl? You can't possibly be that tough." I stop my approach and feel a sting of anger pulse from my chest. Normally I would know better than to be surprised by the statement, given his way of disrespecting women, but there was something about the way he looked and spoke that merely twisted the knife inflicted by his words.

"Gender makes little difference. I am a skilled martial artist, and I can easily tear you apart."

He started to chuckle and sweat. This went for a few seconds before he turned and bolted for the hallway. "Shit." I chase after and feel a tickle in my throat. I have to force a growl to release the scratching feeling. "I told you not to run." I would not hold back any longer.

Andre is fast in front of me, and he disappears around the corner, but I still manage to see a bit of his long dreads flying through the air. When I round the corner, I spot something that sends a shockwave of terror through me.

In an empty room is a girl with her wrist bound by rope to the wall. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks as though she hadn't eaten in weeks. "What. The. Hell?" My body shakes with rage as I see Andre duck into the closet in the back room, hiding like the coward he is.

The girl looks at me with terror in her eyes and begins to pull at her wrist. "God!" She screams. There's no doubt in my mind Andre thinks I might take this girl's life instead, but I'm more concerned with why she's there.

"Who are you and why does he have you here?" My fist clenches the handle of the wakizashi and my teeth start to grind together.

This girl is familiar to me, but only because I've seen her in passing within the presence of Andre. She was one of the most recent girls he dated, and according to some, she was the first girl to break up with him as opposed to the other way around.

"Please don't hurt me," the girl sobs. "My name is Melissa." I narrow my eyes and glance at the closet. My chest expands and my nostrils flare. "He locked me in here because I broke up with him." She bowed her head and started to tremble and whimper. "I knew what he was like. Other women talked. Please…oh please, you have to get me out of here. He's a monster!"

It seemed as though part of his grandmother was rubbing off on him. That mattered little to me, but seeing this innocent girl here pissed me off to no end.

She was a witness and likely could identify my gender, but I have always made an effort to ensure no unnecessary deaths occurred. That was some of the control I was allowed against the Caller-that no innocents or unnecessary deaths would happen.

I would not have killed Holly like the Caller had, for the Caller is the crazy one while I am more rational. With that, I know the thing to do in this instance is to get this girl to safety, so I cut the rope without a second thought.

Melissa pulls her hand away, gasping aloud. She drops to her knees and grabs my left foot, weeping into it. "Get out of here," I say as firmly as possible. "When the police ask: You cannot recall anything due to your trauma. You did not see me and you do not know my gender or the sound of my voice."

"Y-Yes."

"Now leave…" I pull my foot away and watch her scramble out the door. When I am confident she is no longer around, I turn to the closet and shout my command. "Get out of the closet Andre, before I go in. If I had no reason to do this before, I damn sure have a reason now."

The closet door flew open, and like a bull, Andre charges me. "Fuck you!" He screams. For a second, he looks like a lion pouncing upon it's victim. I sweep to the right, narrowly avoiding his tackle. He slams his side into the wall and bounces off it, charging again like a madman. "I won't let you kill me. I won't!"

"I'm afraid you have little choice." I slide my sword through the air and hear his scream echo. The floor seems to vibrate at my feet, and blood splashes out onto the wall near me. Andre grabs his right wrist and screams again when he sees the blood gushing from a deep, open wound.

He drops to his knees and whimpers as my shadow falls onto him. "I swear, I swear Melissa was the first and only time I ever did this." I grunt in reply and roll my head to the side, sneering as he starts to cringe.

"You have always been a womanizer, so it was only a matter of time before you did something like that." My wakizashi grows heavy upon his right shoulder, and his trembling eyes move towards it. "You will die for this injustice. Your death will not be for the Caller or for me, but for Melissa."

"Oh god."

"Farewell, Andre Harris." I remove the sword from his shoulder and thrust it forward, plunging it into his chest until it spears his heart. Andre's head falls backwards as his eyes roll to the back of his head. It doesn't take long before he goes limp.

I twitch my lip and raise my foot to his chest. "Now you will never harm the hair on the head of another woman." I push him off my sword and step away. My next move will be to clean up and make certain I leave no footprints or any other clues that could distinguish my identity.

After I clean my sword and the scene, I sheathe my blade and walk away with only a whispered utterance at my lips. "This hypocrisy will end soon, and a final justice will be issued, I know."

* * *

Well, Andre is gone. What are your thoughts on this chapter? Do you have any inclination of who the Caller might be, yet? I believe the identity of the Assassin has been made known, so that's something to consider. What do you think about the events of the chapter?


	20. Losing Control

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 20 (Losing Control)

"Andre's gone!" Jade screamed at the top of her lungs. Trina watched as Tori hugged the girl tight and rocked back and forth, patting her on the back. "That killer-they're after _us_. First Cat, now Andre. What's going on?"

Beck was on the other side of Jade, holding onto her hand. "Robbie's gone missing too," he said with a trembling voice. Trina could see he was trying his best to hold it together, but he truly seemed moments away from falling to pieces. "I mean he's not answering his phone or anything."

"I'm sure Robbie will turn up," Tori said. Trina squinted her eyes and shook her head. She didn't know about Robbie, if something happened or not. The last he was heard from was before Andre's death, so if he happened to go missing, the Assassin had not taken his life.

Had the Stalker done so, his body would have been found in his home. "When was he seen last?" Trina asked, hoping to shed light on this situation and possibly alleviate the couples' fears. "Any ideas?" Tori's eyes flashed for a moment and the girl shook her head.

"We were hanging out at this restaurant last night." Trina craned her neck and her eyes darted onto Tori as Beck and Jade took one more look at her. "We decided to take a walk and he hit on me as usual in the park." Tori shrugged and turned her eyes towards the ground. "I told him I wasn't interested and walked away. I left him there, hadn't seen him since."

Something wasn't right, but Trina couldn't be sure. "Maybe he just wants to be alone." She was pretty sure Robbie stopped hitting on anyone but Cat, but it was possible he relapsed after Cat's death. Even still, she knew if he tried anything with Tori, that wouldn't be a good thing. "Any thoughts on that girl found at Andre's place?"

"Ugh, don't remind us." Jade rolled her eyes and hugged herself. Her voice was raw and fresh tears erupted from her eyes. "I can't believe Andre would do such a thing"

"He was always pleasant," Beck remarked. There was a sadness to his tone, and his eyes were filled with disbelief. "I just-I don't want to think he could have done it, but there's no…there's nothing to suggest she's lying. It seemed certain."

Contempt flashed on Tori's face. Trina could feel the girl's ire and shrank back, turning her gaze away from the girl's gaze. "She's a witness. She might identify Andre's killer. Maybe the killer was sloppy, maybe _finally_ we can have hope."

Trina shrank into her chair, staring ahead at her father's study. The anger in her heart still burned for what Andre had done. He was to be a simple kill, not what he had been.

As for Robbie, she had no idea what happened to him. Just like their mother's death, she didn't expect or plan for it. It was likely the Caller was behind it, but she could do little since she swore to protect the Caller at all costs.

She felt more for her father, having to go through the hell of losing everyone he was close to. She loved him, and she hated what she had done. In the end, she was certain Jason could have forgiven her from beyond the grave, she knew when and where she wanted to stop, but she didn't know if her dad would ever forgive this.

"Just relax." She stood and held her breath as Beck and Jade looked up at her. "We're going to find out who did this." The Caller was more specific with how the next target was to die: Beck was to die in front of Jade.

The Caller called it 'poetic justice' for what happened to Jason. Trina hated the idea, seeing how she wouldn't wish such an ending on her worst enemy-which Jade was-but the Caller was forceful and growing worse. To the point, Trina was afraid to go against them anymore.

Now, she was going to have to direct her father to the park Tori said she saw Robbie last. She hoped he wouldn't be found, or if he was, he'd be found alive. She hoped there was nothing terrible that had befallen him.

"Trina." David marched out of his study and the room grew silent, with all eyes watching as he pulled on his jacket. "Come with me." Her heart skipped and she pursed her lips. "I want you to help question this witness. She's been through hell, and may respond to a female officer better."

"Wha-okay…" It beat waiting around here, listening to Beck and Jade bemoan their final days. She followed him outside and into his car, where she started to whisper. "Afterwards, we need to go check out the Park. The one on 10th Avenue, I think." He leaned his head back and shot a curious look her way.

"Why?"

"They're saying Robbie's not answering calls or anything, and Tori saw him last there. They're worried something happened."

David shifted the gear and grunted. "It hasn't been that long, he's probably off doing whatever." She knew he didn't care for the kid, but that wasn't reason to not search.

"You're stressed, I get it, but Dad they're concerned." David closed his eyes and let out an exhale. "They've lost two of their friends just now, and their whole world is collapsing around them. The least we can do is check to make sure Robbie is okay."

He said nothing while staring at the steering wheel. Finally his arms and shoulders fell and a sigh of defeat escaped his lips. "Fine, if he's still not answering after we interview this witness, we'll check the park. Andre died last night, so if Robbie's gone missing, I doubt out serial killer has anything to do with it."

"You're probably right, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't look." Trina moved her hand to his forearm, looking into his eyes. "You can't let your focus on this killer be the only thing there, you have to pay attention to other things too or you'll lose your credibility. You know that, Dad…"

A faint smile graced his lips and he curled his eyebrows together. "I know sweetie. I just…I guess I've just been too stressed lately."

"Yeah." She dropped her hand and bowed her head. "And Dad?"

"Yes?"

Tears welled up in her eyes and her throat began to tighten. "No matter what happens, I want you to know…I love you." David's eyes squinted and his smile grew.

"I love you too."

Although the ride to the station was a short one, it felt like they'd been driving for hours. Every second that passed, Trina's heart broke and her muscles would tense.

When they finally reached the station and she sat in front of Melissa, those nerves and emotions remained. Seeing the girl again for the first time sent shockwaves of sorrow and anger through her, anger towards Andre, but pity for the girl. "Melissa, how are you doing after your ordeal?"

The girl paused briskly, her eyes widening and searching Trina's. "I-I'm better." Melissa squinted her eyes and tilted her head. "I…I don't know that I can tell you much."

"Try." Trina curled her fingers into her palm and smiled sadly. "Did you see anything? Hear anything? What can you tell us about your captor's murderer?"

"I wouldn't call it murder." The girl snarled and fell back, crossing her arms. Trina raised an eyebrow at the girl and looked to the two-sided window for a second. "The bastard had it coming. If anything, your serial killer isn't a murderer but a vigilante."

"Vigilantism is still a crime. Law and order must be left to the hands of the law, not the civilian. Civilians do not always get it right, they risk killing someone that may not truly be guilty."

"But Andre Harris _was_ guilty." The girl smacked her hand on the table and leaned forward. "He deserved to be gutted." There was no doubt in Trina's mind that Andre deserved to pay for his crimes, but this was going nowhere.

"Even still, innocents have died at the hands of this killer. If you can help in any way, we would like you to do so." There was little chance this girl was going to help identify Andre's killer if she felt the killer was saving her life, so Trina had to appeal to the girl's better nature. "The next victim could be someone that hasn't done anything wrong at all, we don't know…is it fair that we don't try and stop this person because they saved your life?"

Melissa closed her eyes and looked down to her lap. Trina knew her voice was recognized, so she was clearly putting this girl in a tough position. The last thing she wanted to do was interrogate her, but there was no choice.

"Did you see anything at all?"

"No. The person didn't…say anything…" She took a deep breath and leaned back, sliding her hands along the table. At this point, she didn't care if the girl positively identified her; if she outright said it was her voice, it would all be over and she would find peace.

Or perhaps not, knowing the Caller was still out there.

"That person was dressed like a ninja, I know that much." Trina raised an eyebrow and smiled as Melissa looked to the window, still not making eye contact with her. "I couldn't see the person's face, and I was petrified of Andre, so much that I couldn't focus. I-I think they had a sword."

"A sword?"

"Yeah, and looked like they knew martial arts."

"Any bit, no matter how small, is helpful. So thank you…"

After the interview, she was happy to be a little closer, but her dad didn't share this joy. "We're no closer than we've been." His arms were crossed and his muscles were tense. "Other than the fact that the killer might know martial arts, we know nothing else."

"I wouldn't say that." She locked her wrists behind her back and swayed from side to side. "I mean think about it. Certain martial artists own swords. If the person knows martial arts, and owns a sword, we could be that much closer." She shrugged.  
"Hell. Jason owned some." David raised his head up and dismissed the thought with a scoff.

"His uncle's been cleared, so it's unlikely his sword would be involved. Even still, we need proof of the murder weapon."

"I guess…"

David scratched his chin, eventually whisking it away. "Alright. Let's go check out this park. I still say Robbie's probably fine."

The park was eerily quiet, and the sky seemed darker than usual at 9:00. There was a howl in the wind that made Trina uneasy, and slightly terrified about what could be lurking.

Even still, she couldn't yet get her mind off her earlier conversation with David. _"I've flat out hinted, but he doesn't even suspect. Is he foolish, or just doesn't want to suspect what is right under his nose?"_ No. It would be too much for him to think his own daughter was involved.

A text caught her attention and when she looked, she was startled to see it was from the caller.

 _Check the cave off the northernmost point of the hiking trail that veers into the wooded area…there's a gift waiting…_

Trina felt a lump swelling in her throat and looked up from her phone, whimpering fearfully. She followed the Caller's suggestion, knowing now Robbie's fate was at the hands of the Psychopath. She knew her kills were bad enough, but they were nothing compared to what the Caller might do.

She let one of the police dogs go with her, leading the way to the cave. David wasn't far behind, since he could see she was acting on a hunch.

When she walked into the cave, however, she found a horrid sight. Robbie was standing with his back against the wall, his arms were bent over two stakes that held him up, pinned in cracks in the rock.

He was nude, with slashes and bruises covering his entire body. He was mutilated to the point that he was hardly recognizable. The most unsightly thing was where his genitalia should have been-it was completely black from scorching.

Trina's stomach jolted upright and she turned around, throwing her hands over her face. David pat her on the back, motioning to a couple police officers to take her off.

Nothing she'd done could prepare her for such an atrocity. She could see he'd been tortured to death, as several markings and bruising appeared to be done prior to death.

The caller had gone too far, but she didn't know what she could do at this point. She was too deep and had no way out-but there was still a chance she could control the Caller before they lost it, though it appeared too late.

The Psychopath was now a much greater, lethal threat than the Stalker, and it was terrifying.

* * *

Now we wonder, is the Caller truly more dangerous? The Assassin has a code, the Caller does not. The Caller is the psychopath, incapable of feeling emotions such as sorrow, guilt, shame, or even justice. We know the Assassin's identity, but the Caller is still a mystery, or are they? Also, it looks like Andre's victim felt like protecting the Assassin after all. Hm. Any thoughts towards everything?


	21. So Long

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 21 (So Long)

"Listen, this has to end, it's gone on far enough." Trina paced the floor, talking to the Caller on the phone. "My Dad's hurting as it is, and this is going to drive him crazy." The phone call sounded as though there was no one on the other end, so she checked to see if the line was connected.

It was. "It's not over until they pay. They all must pay. I want you to kill them, and make them feel the pain we went through." Trina rolled her eyes and dropped her forehead into her hand.

Jason's passing still hurt, but she regretted the murders. Some didn't deserve to die. If anything, the only one she thought needed to have the assassin's justice was the Caller, but she could never bring herself to kill them. It was less of a matter of being strong enough than it was a matter of care.

Trina could easily take out the Caller, but she loved the Caller like family. She could see the psychotic nature in the person, and knew there was a line that had been crossed; so neither of them could be saved.

"One last kill." Trina straightened her back and narrowed her eyes. "I will only take out one final target, then I'm done."

"No. I need you." She closed her eyes and held her breath. The Caller started to gasp and whine. "We're in this together." As though the Caller had the emotions to produce anything beyond crocodile tears, she knew better. It was true the Caller cared for her, and maybe she was the only one they cared about, but the killing spree had to end somewhere or else it never would.

She sighed huskily and spoke firmly, still reeling from seeing Robbie's body in the cave. "I'm done. You crossed a line when you killed Mom and when you slaughtered Robbie. You know I'm half tempted to tell you to take out your last targets, this has become more of a revenge game for you than it is for me."

"Think about Jason, and what that bitch did to him. Think of all the times they've hurt you in the past. You want this."

"Yeah, maybe I _wanted_ it, but that was before. Andre may have deserved justice, and his Grandmother most certainly did, but some of your targets didn't deserve to."

"We're in this together. You and me, we'll survive and escape together. We'll go to the Bahamas, to Spain, to anywhere in the world. You and me. You have to do this. Take them out. Jade and Beck, or just Jade if you want. I don't care, I only want them to suffer."

Trina paused for a moment, glancing off to the side and raising a finger over her chin. In the distance was Jason's gravestone, fresh with a bouquet of flowers. Her heart broke and filled with a new and different anger.

Jade had only been stupid, and she suffered enough all her friends. Beck hadn't done anything wrong either. Trina knew Jade was remorseful for what she had done, and while Trina could never forget the pain or trust Jade, she could forgive the girl.

She had a new desire within her, but wasn't sure how to pull it off. "Will you be there?" Trina asked with a low and quiet voice. "Will you watch this one? It's more for you than me. I'm only an extension of your hand."

At her hips were the two swords; the wakizashi and the katana, justice and vengeance combined. She had little need for vengeance anymore, so she could remove herself of the katana. Justice, however, was still necessary.

Justice for everyone that had been decimated in the wake of her anger and the Caller's orders.

"You want me there for this?" The Caller sounded astonished that she would suggest something like that, and they were right to be. All this time Trina wanted to protect the Caller and refused to let them on the scene of the crime.

"Things are different now." Trina's hand tensed on her phone and she looked up as the bitter wind caressed her cheeks. "This is your key target, after all. Maybe you want to watch my handiwork?"

"I'm almost honored you would ask me to be there. You've never let me, but yeah, I'd love to be there. I'd love to watch." Trina smirked a moment and nodded in reply. "Now, when and where will this be? You will tell me won't you?" She had only thought of this being with Beck and Jade together, but not when.

"I know I'm going to do it with the couple together. I don't know where. Maybe I'll guide them to Hollywood Arts. The cafeteria tables outside."

The Caller was more naïve than intelligent, though not to say they weren't intelligent. Already, the Caller would have to know a murder like this wasn't in the style of the Assassin. It was too open, too public.

"The school's closed down." The Caller breathed in slow and hummed softly. "Lure them inside the school and do it there." They chuckled low and Trina raised an eyebrow. "How appropriate, let them taste vengeance where it all started. Lead them into Mr. Sikowitz's room. I'll be in the building, I'll watch from the shadows."

"Don't want them to see you, huh?"

"No. I want the last thing Jade ever sees to be us together, I want her to realize how much she fucked up."

"You don't think she already realizes it?"

"No. Of course not."

"So be it. In a few days, in the heat of night we'll do this. Jade. Then I'm out." She hung up the phone for emphasis on finality, knowing if she stayed on the line, the Caller would continue to prod her.

Her father was already going to find out, he would know by the time it was all said and done. Trina stepped in front of Jason's grave and closed her eyes, letting her tears splash out from her eyes. "It won't be long now," she whispered, "I'll see you soon. I'm sorry. I lost myself, I lost myself, and I've destroyed everyone I've ever cared about."

She knelt before his marker and looked up into the sky, taking a deep breath as she contemplated for a moment the existence of a god. "My soul is done either way. I know you're up there, and all that other stuff. Look over my father, look over Jade and Beck. What I'm about to do…please forgive me, this time it has to be done."

Trina removed her katana and laid it flat over Jason's grave. It was clean and shone in glaring sunlight. "Your sword, Jason. I'll return it to you, I know it's covered in blood, but I want you to hold it for me. You're disappointed, I'm sure. I don't need revenge anymore, I haven't needed it for some time, I just…" Her voice shattered and her body started to tremble.

"Give me some of your strength, Jason. I need it more than I've ever needed it." She ran her hand over the letters of his name, sliding her shaky fingers down the center of the marker. Her body leaned forward, and she placed her head against the grave and wept.

A few days later, she sent a message out luring Jade and Beck to Hollywood Arts. It wasn't much, just a note claiming to be from Tori, telling them she urgently needed to meet them in Mr. Sikowitz's old classroom.

The building was supposed to be locked up, but they'd all found a way inside. Trina watched them from the shadows, dressed in her black jumpsuit and mask. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her mouth twisted into a deep frown.

The phone in her hand lit up and she saw her father's number on the screen. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm sorry to do this to you, I'm sorry for the pain you're going to go through. I'm sorry for everything. I love you…don't let this destroy you. It will, but do your best to stay strong.

Raising her head, she watched the nervous couple move into Sikowitz's room. Her heart slowed and she followed them in. The classroom was empty, all of the chairs and desks had been removed from the room, so it looked like a barren wasteland.

"Where is Tori?" Beck inquired while peering around the room. "God, being here…"

"It hurts." Jade hugged herself and leaned back against a wall. Tears stained her eyes, and her chest started to heave. "How could things have gone so wrong?" Trina slid behind the podium on the upper stage and crouched, listening carefully. "I know I took things to the extreme, I know I took things too far, but did people deserve to die?"

"You think you're the reason for this?"

"I don't know. I just…it's a weird feeling." Jade breathed out and cracked her neck to the right. "God, where's Tori at?"

"I don't know. Just try to be calm and let's wait." She had to make this authentic, she needed to lure out the Caller and bring them to justice. She had to look like she was going to cut these two down, then she would perish and the Caller sent to prison.

It was strange, knowing what had to be done. She'd spent so much time protecting the Caller, so much time trying to keep them out of view and away from prison, but it could only go so far. After Robbie, she knew the Caller wouldn't stop. Each time someone ticked them off, they would keep going until they were caught.

Trina looked at the classroom door and saw movement behind it. The Caller was here. Her phone bore a drafted text message to her father; an apology and an 'I love you'. Her next message told him to hurry to Hollywood Arts, and to bring Backup. That the Assassin was there.

It had to end here, it had to end now.

* * *

I give you fair warning that this story won't end on a happy ending, I never intended it as anything but a tragedy. So, here we go, the next chapter is the final. How will this end, and soon we will see the Caller's identity revvealed.


	22. A Tragedy on All Ends

The Assassin

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N:

* * *

Chapter 22 (A Tragedy on All Ends)

She stepped out of the shadows, sneering at the couple. Jade moved away from the wall, lowering her arms. "Oh god no." Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. "B-Beck?" Beck turned his head and furrowed his brow.

Trina cracked her neck to the left, then to the right. No introduction was needed. She put her hand on the handle of the wakizashi and flared her nostrils. Beck immediately moved in front of Jade, spreading his arms out. "No. You can't take her. You can't have her."

He was devoted, dedicated. As nice as it was to see, Trina couldn't forget what she was set out to do. If he stayed out of the way, he might live. If this went as planned, Jade could survive.

Taking another step forward, she braced herself. Beck bit down and clenched his fists. "I said no. Stay away." Trina rolled her eyes and pushed him aside, throwing him to the ground.

"Leave us alone," Jade screamed. The dark haired girl took a step back and bared her teeth. "I know how to fight. T-Trina taught me. Tori's sister taught me to fight." Trina smirked with pride and extended her hand, then curled her finger as though taunting her.

"Let's fight then," she said with a calm and quiet voice. Jade leaned her head back, scrunching her face for a second before shaking her head. "What?"

"Your voice sounds familiar, but I don't know how. Why are you doing this to us?"

"Your lives have been marked for death. I am merely the hitman for someone else who wishes you dead. I don't desire your death."

"Then who? Who wants us dead? Who would put us through this hell, damn it!" Jade lunged forward, thrusting her fist forward. Trina slid to the side, avoiding the blow. Just then, Jade raised her leg and plunged her foot into Trina's waist.

With a grunt, Trina spun away and swept her arm down and into Jade's lower back. Jade stumbled forward and groaned as Beck started pushing himself up. "Stay down, Beck."

"No," Beck growled, "I'm not letting her lay a hand on you."

Trina's eyes flicked out to the side and she kicked forward, striking Beck in the chest and throwing him back against the wall. Jade screamed and lunged forward, so Trina twisted around and performed a side block with her arm to deflect the blow.

She then countered with a knife strike to Jade's abdomen. Jade pushed her hand down, throwing Trina's hand to the side.

It was an evenly matched fight, and it went on for some time. She was fairly certain the Caller was watching and would soon be lured out, but she had to continue to make it believable.

Taking it up a notch, she swung her wakizashi in the air and growled when Jade ducked to avoid the slash. "You killed them," Jade cried, "You killed them all and you're not killing me." Jade's punches grew into a frenzy and Trina did all she could to deflect the blows.

"It wasn't my wish, it isn't my wish any longer." Trina spun around the girl and threw her arms around her neck, pulling her close. Jade's hands grabbed her forearm and she gasped out as Trina leaned in close to her ear. "I'm going to die tonight, Jade." Jade's breath trembled and her eyes widened as Trina continued to whisper. "You've got a part to play in it all. Do you want revenge, or justice? For the lives of those who have passed?"

"What does it matter?"

"Revenge destroys you, tears you apart and eats away until you are nothing. Until all you want is to die. Justice allows you to live, to move forward knowing those responsible have paid for their sins."

Jade grit her teeth and leaned forward, using all of her strength and adrenaline to throw Trina overhead. Beck lunged for her and Trina crashed into the back of the stage. She heard a scream of horror and looked up in time to see Beck standing with the wakizashi clean through his chest. Her heart stopped and she pushed herself up, staggering forward.

"No…No, that wasn't supposed to happen." Trina moved forward with a limp, watching as Beck dropped to his knees and stared down at the sword that pierced him.

"Beck, no!" Jade ran to his side, screaming at the top of her lungs and wailing as she dropped to her knees and held him into her arms.

For a moment, they vanished before Trina's eyes, as a memory flashed before her. She saw herself, holding Jason in her arms and pleading that he hold on. He would live, she knew he would live, denying with her heart that his spirit had already gone.

Now she had to watch as the tables turned, and Jade was in her position. The cruelest irony, the bitter judgment. Her tormentor, the cause of Jason's death, now suffering in the way Trina had for so long.

It was what she wanted at first, what she desired for so long, but she felt no joy or happiness seeing this. Only sorrow and grief.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," Trina mumbled. Words Jade spoke before. She saw the hate flash before Jade's eyes, mixed in with grief as Beck's lips moved slowly-only letting air escape. "He wasn't supposed to die. He got in the way."

"Damn it Beck." Jade dropped her head to Beck's chest, sobbing into it. "I told you to stay down. I told you to leave it alone."

Trina breathed in slow and stopped next to Jade. The girl raised her head and glared into her eyes. Her lips were tight and her nostrils flared out. "Why don't you kill me? Just kill me. Do it now, get it over with please…please…"

Trina rolled her head to the side and motioned to the sword. "Remove the blade from his chest, Jade." Jade whimpered feverishly and started shaking her head. "Remove the sword. Justice, as it's inscribed, take it and plunge it into my heart…Take your justice."

"No."

"Do it."

"No!" Jade stood up, screaming at the top of her lungs. "No, that's not justice." Trina smiled knowingly and closed her eyes. "Or it is, but that's not the right way to do it. It's not. I-I can't do that."

"Then I will do it for you." Jade grew stiff as Trina wrapped her hand around the handle of the sword and carefully pulled it away from the lifeless body before her. "I am sorry, I know words are meaningless. I once felt as you do now…I just wish I had the strength to say what you just did at the time."

"You took everything from me. You killed my friends, you killed my family, and now B-Beck's gone." Jade dropped back to her knees and curled her fingers on the ground. "I want you to die, I hate you and everything about you, but it's wrong."

"Why is it wrong? Why won't you kill me?"

"Because I know. I didn't want to believe it, but your voice." Trina hummed softly and closed her eyes. "I-I never once fathomed how you must have felt." Jade wiped her eyes and looked at Beck. "I was a bitch for so long, I deserve it."

"No one deserves it, Jade. I let it go on too long, but I was unable to stop it."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"I told you, I am just the hitman. The Caller is the one that wanted you and all the others dead."

Just then, the door to the classroom flew open. Trina flinched and turned her head in time to see her father aiming his gun at her. "Hands where I can see them!" David's stance was strong and his expression was so commanding that Trina had to smile.

He'd done it, he'd caught the darkest serial killer of Los Angeles. She knew what this would mean to him, but she knew how much pain it was going to cause at the same time. Unavoidable, but necessary.

Her last gift to him, a promotion to perhaps the highest order on the force. Several police officers were with him, their guns pointed as well.

The Caller hadn't come out yet, which was discouraging, but she couldn't go through any further. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I love you Daddy. Always remember that."

David's brow furrowed and he pushed his gun forward. "I said hands where I can see them." She pointed the tip of the wakizashi to her chest, holding the handle with both blades. "Damn it, drop the damn weapon!"

"No!" A voice shrieked, drowning out David's command and startling Trina. A look of horror came over David's and Jade's face as Tori emerged from the other door of the classroom. "No, you promised me." Trina turned her head, narrowing her eyes.

"It ends tonight. Caller."

Jade cupped her hands over her mouth, muffling a scream. David started to shake, and realization dawned on him.

"We're in this together. Together." Tori removed a gun from her pocket, growling through clenched teeth. "Life and death, forever united. I won't let you go to prison. I won't let you kill yourself."

"Tori…You have to understand."

"Shut up!" Tori raised the gun and shut her eyes as tears fell down her cheek. "Shut up!" She fired a bullet and Trina's eyes widened as a sudden force struck her in the stomach. "Shut up." Another shot rang out, and a burning pain struck her chest. "Shut up." She looked down, staring at her chest as bullets riddled her body with each scream of her sister.

She dropped her sword and looked at her father with pain in her eyes. "Daddy." Her aching body dropped down and her knees shattered as they hit the ground. "I love you. I'm so…so sorry…"

A wave of shock swept across David's body and he lowered the gun slowly. "No," he whispered. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen this? "I could have-I could have helped you, I could have done something to make it better. You did all this? No. I-I can't…"

As his favorite daughter collapsed to the ground, he turned his eyes to his youngest. She stood over Trina's body, seething with anguish. "Tori?" Jade whimpered. "You?"

"I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you all to suffer." Tori lowered her gun and growled. "The pain you caused me, the pain you caused my sister. You deserved to suffer. My sister had a heart, she had emotions, she wanted to end it…I didn't."

"Dave, do something," an officer behind him stated under his breath. His knees were weak and the gun in his hand was heavy. Denial and grief surrounded him. "Take the shot, Dave. Make the call."

The serial killer he'd hunted for so long had been two people working together, two people that never once suspected as being capable of such crime. "I-I…" He turned his head, stammering as his heart shattered to pieces. "I…"

Tori craned her neck, chuckling softly. "Together. Always together." She reached down, sliding her sibling's eyelids down. "In life…and in death. Together. Ian's gone. Jason's gone. Trina's gone. Everyone's gone. Only person left to rely on. Gone."

"Tori, sweetie, please."

"Daddy's left. He always makes the fun end." David choked on a sob, whimpering as Tori turned to him. "Putting out the fire on the squirrel, he always ends the fun. Jade still lives, she needed to die. She was to die, Trini and I could get away. We could."

"Tori. I-I have to arrest you…Baby tell me you're not involved."

"Trina loved you, she wanted you to succeed." Tori cracked her neck. "You've succeeded daddy, you caught the serial killer. I made all the shots. I made Trina do the killing, she didn't want to do the killing."

David threw his gaze onto Trina's body and fresh tears ran along his cheeks. All of a sudden, there was a loud cry, and when he looked up he saw that Tori had taken the wakizashi and was charging for him.

"We can all be together forever now!" Tori screamed. His eyes widened as fire flashed before his eyes. The sound of gunfire echoed and filled his ears, and in horror he watched as his backup gunned down his last remaining relative.

Tori's body crumpled to the ground and David fell to his knees, trembling with pain. "No." He repeated himself and scrambled to the Trina's body, praying it wasn't true, praying that Trina wasn't underneath the mask.

When he removed her mask, a chill shot through his veins and paralyzed him. His heart pounded heavily against his ribcage, and his lungs were burning as he opened his mouth in a failed attempt to scream.

A hand landed on his shoulder and one of his officers spoke. "Congratulations, you caught the killer. The Chief promised you a promotion for it, right? Should we start calling you 'Commissioner' now or later?"

He was deaf to the request, and continued to stare as the officers helped Jade to her feet. In a single moment, his entire world had collapsed.

Even now, he didn't know what led his daughters to this point and couldn't figure out how he could have helped them. The promotion meant nothing to him anymore, not without the girls.

Finally the scream echoed from his gut, and the walls of the building shook as he dropped his head to his daughter's chest and wailed. His tears drenched the outfit Trina wore, and he clutched his daughter in his arms, praying it was all just a bad dream and that he might wake up and hear their laugh once more.

But a dream this was not, his world had been destroyed and everything he had ever worked for was gone. His cry was loud and long, and it remained as the officers shuffled out with Jade, leaving him alone with his two daughters.

For now, it was over. He wasn't going to take a promotion, not for this. For this, he'd hang his badge. His life was over; nothing mattered anymore. This was the end.

* * *

A tragedy indeed. The end of this tale as I saw it so long ago. I hope you enjoyed, and thank you to all who followed along. Tell me what your thoughts are, and hang around for other works.


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